I'll raise a glass to you, and him
Even though you're both not here
And I won't complain that it's not champagne
I prefer a nice cold beer.
It's ice-cold like your heart in fact
And as it slips down my vocal tract
I hope he gives you fun
And makes you happy
Preceded by 'un'.
You know by now
This really shouldn't be a surprise
You're my demons
You need some exorcise.
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