Blame it on the whiskey
I lay awake, lost in myself,
My touch, like ice, shivering from the cold.
Eyes closed, vivid images come alive,
This prince of mine, dwells inside.
Heart beats loud, wide awake I sleep,
blame it on the whisky, my soul it takes.
Softly on the wind it gently rides,
A delicate kiss, floating on by.
An absent soul, I'm in-love with a dream.
Wounds forgot to heal, scares refuse to fade,
This prince of mine, is not in place.
Blame it on the whisky. my soul it steals.
A sad life, A bad life, A mad life.
In the imagine, I'm wide awake
Longing for a touch, lingering in hell.
Blame it on the whisky, my prince is dead.