your whiskey
golden tone from a white oak barrel, twelve years old, way up on the self, ninety proof stamped on that label, tear it off, and wearing nothing else, wish it was me you were coming home to, me helping what you're going through, that burning thing you love anticipating, wish i took the edge off the pain, wish i put a smile on your face, in the middle of the day, it's me you're missing, i wish i was your whiskey, i'm lying wide awake and sober, and you're dying from that aching in your head, no, i'd never leave your heart hungover, but you're filling up on something else instead, wish it was me you were coming home to, me helping what you're going through, that burning thing you love anticipating, wish i took the edge off the pain, wish i put a smile on your face, in the middle of the day, it's me you're missing, i'd be the glass pressed against your lips, what your hands touch every night, hell, i'd even be that cube of ice, wish it was me you were coming home to, me helping what you're going through, that burning thing you love anticipating, wish i took the edge off the pain, wish i put a smile on your face, in the middle of the day, it's me you're missing, i wish i was your whiskey, yeah, your whiskey
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