i look ’round and there is nothing…a case for glasses…wooden lamp…books…this bed to rest upon at night…not for dreams…not for dreams…
and there are copper cups we drank from on chilly November Eve… a bond fire glowed…smells of whiskey…mint…nights of lifted spirits…here’s to lifted spirits…
we would drink till late into early morn…telling stories from our youth…first drink…first love…first heartbreak…we drank and drank…i miss those nights…
this drink is to us…i raise this glass to us…to our once upon a time love affair which was toasted everynight…i drink this to you old friend…i drink this to you…cheers mate…cheers…
i look ’round and there is nothing…a case for glasses…wooden lamp…books…this bed to rest upon at night…not for dreams…not for dreams…
