The bottle of brandy stands empty
A hollow, vacuous vessel
Last night its fermented fruit was my friend
Today, only the aroma remains
Oh, sweet lovely, motherly brandy!
Drunk neat without the dry
You brought a tear to my eye
Your powerful potency was like liquid lightening
Distilled, medicinal electricity
Amber numbness from a tumbler
But alas, no more goldeny goodness will flow
To the bottleshop I must go
But hark!, never fear!
Another awaits!
Like a silent sentinel seeking a call to arms
to fight a war against sobriety and reality
A back-up battalion of brandy (well, just one bottle really)
sits on my shelf
So I’ll have a drink, and think
of you.
You old soak.
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