They fall straight to me
Buttery and smooth, heavy molten nuggets
At which I snatch
And those I catch I place under my tongue
Absorb their salty sweetness
Taste the words to come
The ones I miss they fall straight through
And roll out of my aura
Where without my tender care
they suddenly explode
in tiny whorls, right there
The taste of sadness
Welling foaming bubbles of despair
Too many pints
The trace of bitter tears
Streaming down the glass
A thousand wasted nights
Too ...