I bought a bottle of wine
And it’s a lot like you
(Who was I telling this to?)
It was alluring before I got it home
And red when I opened
But I drank it anyway and I’m
Simmered in the consequences
A bottle of red upon my shelf
Is a lot like love unopened
But here the metaphor breaks down
Cause when have I ever passed up a bottle of you?
I’m always just along
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