even by his own standards
crapulous, he crumbled
tilting towards the floor
but for the bar grasped as
a sailor in a typhoon swell
and looked to me
as though with all
my mighty height
of five foot four
I could maneuver his
six foot three
back towards the door
and drag him home
oh, better tis to be alone
I do not miss those days
no, I do not miss that man
and when I lonesome pine
I ever mumble this refrain
better all my days forlorn
than deal with that again
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