Take me with you, I miss him too
More than you can ever begin to imagine
Remember this, tragedy befalls us all
I can stand tall but I’d far rather stand tall in church
Give him my every blessing, drop a rose in that dirt
His habits may have hurt me, but his love never died
Seems I was the apple
His may well have been alcohol but that is exactly why you see an entirely different kind of liquid pour on out of my eyes
He did try, and for that alone I need to tip my hat
We sat side by side too many times to count
Beer on his breath perhaps, but those words – albeit relatively derailed – always grapple to take me back
He may well be pale now but his loving nature still breathes
By the end he did manage to sow some beautiful seeds

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