Forty Men on My Heavy Chest (and a Bottle of Rum)

Lover,

You look as if you've seen a ghost.

Or is it the glimmer in your glassy eyes

And loving bites and "I love you the most"

That draws blood from my tired thighs?

Lover,

You sound as if a bullet left you,

Or is it a melody I wanna hear?

Pretend it's no crime, although it's theft.

You chase me down with a bottle of beer and

Lover,

You've lost me along the way,

between "hey, beautiful" and "pretty on your knees".

Tomorrow, you're the one kneeling, a prayer

On your lips. Soft, the heart of the fool who believes.

Lover,

Your breath carries forty men on

My heavy chest and a bottle of rum.

I vow to ne'er return, and then

I'll be back when the bottle's done.