Other Things

You played better than me

Sat down, no notes to read

You have to say it's a little funny

I can't even eat

Bus-sick or worse, whiskey's empty

Other things you wouldn't see

You should take it from me

No truth or gain fix the unhappy

The grass grows in already green

Your dog, your tree-lined street

Lights you hang each Halloween

Obfuscated by your envy

Of me

Me

Me

Me

Me