When The Night Comes

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I’m unworthy, I’m unworthy
The bottle is open by nine-thirty
That drunk text is sent by ten-fifteen
It might be flirtatious, it might be mean
I might make you happy, you might be mad
I might make you want what we had
You might send me something I shouldn’t see
You might be convinced that you love me
Or you might find me blunt and offensive
You might lose your cool and defensive
A twenty something with a body firm and full
Mixed with another twenty something nicknamed a drunken fool
It’s not a good look or a mix
Please don’t respond, don’t be my fix

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