I have spent too much time in this maze/
To know I’ll not get anywhere, how I spend my days/
Pondering daily on how dearly I miss you/
And still wondering if you miss me too/

I tried to drown my sorrows in bottles of gin/
And keeping company with that sort of kin/
But I kept falling back to thoughts of you again/
So I picked up my pen to write a treatise on pain/

My progress thus far, hath got me thinking/
That I had been on the right path when I had been drinking/
So with a bottle in hand and a pen in the other/
I drew you this picture to read, if you bother/

My magic is gone away with you, Muse/
The lyrics of my music is naught but refuse/
So I sing to you, Siren of the briny blue/
Take my heart along, a sacrifice I give up to you/



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