It’s that wine, that wine squeezed from the grapes of crushed dreams and fermented with bitterness. This wine you drink, we drink, because it is the wine, that one wine. The only wine.
So cry me. Don’t cry me a river, don’t cry me a song, don’t cry me an anything. Cry ME [emphasis]. Cry a sadness, that[emphasis] sadness, this[emphasis]. Sadness. That cuts deep and drains me all away; cry me, cry that because I am that sadness and I’ll be your[emphasis] sadness and we’ll drain it all away.
So, because. Because there is hope, because there is love, because there is affection and there is such stuff as our memories surrender to us in the moments when our frantic grasping at the half-shadows of life leave us catching thinly at a squirming sentiment. Because I love[emphasis] you, and because
There is that certain kind of sadness