memory erased,
you hadn’t slept for days
'til you penned the edit
no mention of me
your name on the marquee
all your well earned credit
you look all beaten and bloody
but it’s all part of the show
bet you have your understudy
hidden somewhere down below
it’s a trap door to the second floor
of a whole new you
and I could write it all on the bathroom stall
but what good would it do?

cellar door ajar
we wandered all to far
into your collection
your version is down pat
you point your finger at
every vintage selection
who cares who took the first sip?
we were drunk by the time we left
save for a surefire hangover cure
there was no kind of sober to get
it’s a quick chug or a gateway drug
to a whole new me
and I could write it all on the bathroom stall
but what point would there be?

sick of running late, you circumnavigate
all your past transgressions
blame it on the current
certain that you weren’t
off with your directions
we were inebriated
we peered over the ledge
to a gaping cliff below us
all it takes is a single misstep
it’s a sealed fate
or a leap of faith
to a whole new us
and I could add it all on the bathroom stall
but it wouldn’t amount to much
so glad we didn’t keep in touch.