Decanter
Cherokee Red
"Put down your weapons of war!," cried Mr. Alexander
Raise your glass and pour from this decanter
Fuel my desire, spread it like wildfire
Eventually we'll both end up in this desolate mire
It's a matter of fermentation, degradation
A large price to pay for this instant sensation
One step off of the right track
Simple, selfish humans; we're bound to crack
Helpless victim you are not
It's not a battle you have sought
Let go, let flow
Past resentments are all you've got
My rock has hit bottom
Lucky for me I'd forgotten
I raise that decanter
Like nothing's the matter
These causes connect to the root
As if I didn't know the truth
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