Dinner for one and a double gin & tonic. Phone on silent if there's an outside world with which to contend as I take the North Stars or the '94 Supersonics to the finals. Sure, I traded for Gretzky but means to an end
I know I'll miss the way you used to tell me things were gonna be okay, but not the reasons you fought nightly to remind me. I tried my best. Maybe it wasn't much, cause now there's nothing on my tongue except the medicine a hollow night's prescribed me, like dinner for one. Maybe more gin and tonic. Draw these blinds as if you drove by you'd slow and try to look in