One glass of wine turns into a bottle
Before your fingers start wandering away.
Who will be the one to answer your advances?
Scrolling through the list, who's eye can you sway?
Blonde, brunette, or redhead—so many to choose.
How many do you message, how many will play?
The next morning, the damage has been done.
Friends turned dolls, you now turn them away.
Conversations, promises, words teased in the night,
None of them mean a thing in the dawning of the day.
Next time, they'll know. Next time, they've learned.
Nothing they say at night will ever make you stay.
***