I can’t recall the story,
I remember it quite well,
and since there is no story,
it’s a story I will tell.
It was a dark and stormy night,
the skies were bright and clear,
as we a cask of wine unstopped,
to have a glass of beer.
She wanted me to hold her,
so I promptly set her free.
I loved her oh so very much,
she didn’t mean a thing to me.
Silver were the golden hues,
of spring that winter’s day,
and when I saw her leaving,
I knew she’d come to stay.
We’ve grown to loathe each other,
we have a love both fine and rare,
and since she’s always with me
I can’t find her anywhere.