all bourbon is whiskey, but not all whiskey is bourbon
to be honest it burns all the same
fire in my belly
damper on my memories

call it an old fashion or neat with a twist
it doesn’t matter
i plan to drown my sorrows either way
don’t really need a glass, just a cheap bottle

all these cyclical words about a brown liquor
we’re not here to celebrate
but to commiserate
cheers to your broken heart or spirit

i know it won’t fix anything
won’t fill any holes your love left behind
i just need that delightful nothingness
a break from the mourning

in the morning, i’ll cover this leftover pain
paint on my smile
sew up my wounds
convince them all

i’m better without you
but i’m not all better yet