The vodka in my glass tastes a lot like l o v e in a place like this,
It drowns out a world full of clichés and the sound of a guilty conscience
Shelovesmeshelovesme She. Loves. Me.
R e p l a c e d with the thudding beat of an electric guitar
But darling don't you understand?
When the world is s p i n n i n g along with my head to the sound of music on a Saturday night
You are the cyanide in my vodka
And sweetie don't you get it?
I just downed another class