Love lays bleeding on the bedroom floor, Another bottle rolls off the bed. I look at her pictures while I am laying here, I feel nothing, to me she is dead.
I drink myself into sobriety, wake up with a heavy head and leaden feet. Through the hazy fog I catch her smell, her sweet perfume on my skin, it smells so sweet.
I look around my empty apartment, See all the signs that she was once here. She fixed her sails for another port, Found another chart, another course to steer.
Her clothes scattered over the wooden floor, she left as quickly as she had come, I may never meet another woman like her, but at least I know that she wasn’t the one.
Memories and dreams are all that remain, of a love that showed such promise, But you cannot mix a heavenly cocktail, when one heart is being dishonest.