The Bottle

I just cracked the top on some Jim Beam I just bought.
Took a big ol' swig an' I just set her down.
It's a foolish thing to think, that you could kill the hurt with drink,
But it's the only thing that I can think of now.
Got her down to the top of the sticker:
I wish this stuff would kick in a little quicker.

I can still see us on that tiltawhirl, spinnin'.
Cotton-candy and then when she had mustard on her chin,
From that corn-dog that slipped right off of the stick,
And that top of the Ferriss wheel kiss.
I ain't forgot about that yet,
But I still have some whiskey left.

Sure thought I'd be able, once I reached the middle of the label,
That some of those memories would somehow wash away.
Now I'm pushin' toward the bottom, an' thoughts of her, yeah, I still got 'em.
Those shots, I've shot 'em, but they ain't killed yesterday.
Just a little below the sticker:
Yeah, I must've got a bad batch of liquor.

I can still see her standin' there on that sidewalk,
Yellin' out for the taxi that would take her away,
From the arms of the one that still loves her
With all of his heart.
I ain't forgot about that yet,
But I still have some whiskey left.

I just tipped it up an' took the last sip from the cup:
Threw that bottle on the ground an' started to cry.
I know that I've had plenty an' now there just ain't any,
An' I'm just as empty as that bottle inside.