Poor child
Drunk with the intoxication of your falsehoods
Woozy with the possibilities you keep filling in her goblet
Stumble about she, wild and careless,
The mind altering illusion of infatuation on the rocks
She is mesmerized by the clinking sound of the ice cubes in her glass
Allowing her lips free reign everywhere
To preach the foolish gospel of her brand new buzz
Naively she believes what she is sippin is real love
Moonshine, you give that baby moonshine
Oh if one could tell her how the earth feels against her jaw line when she come a crashing down
Off that high cloud of together forever
Hoping to be caught by the gossamer of your reality
Only to find a fallacy of artfully contrived zilch
Poor child
Gave the full price of her heart for a bottle of moonshine
And who will be there to console her
When she come a crashing down…

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