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Chasing the Blues Away
Upon a bar stool perched am I
With a smiling tear and tall frosty glass in hand
The memory of you for I was such a fool
Having played apart of your silly plan
Here’s to your freedom you crazy coot
God forgive the man who’s next envenomated
The tears I cry or is it a sigh
That helps me remove my tongue from my cheek
So I’ll order another, a toast I proclaim to you all
The witch is dead
Never again will I make such a dire mistake
Long will I remember perhaps forever
The wonderful sound of you slamming the door
So belly up boys, the drinks are on me
As I am chasing the blues away
Entry submitted to the Chasing the Blues Away Contest
2/7/2013
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