When a man is smitten
Martini's stirred not shaken
Emotionally intoxicated
Feeling half baked
At the tipsy door
Cider out of his pores
His skin emits a glow of liveliness
As his "raison d'etre" ascend to greater consciousness

Punched drunk
Looking at the junk in her trunk
Standing struck dumb
He falls under the influence

Not enough are the bootlegged lines
In talks of moonshine
He needs more than lime and salt
To flavor his shot

What is to break the ice
Be of fine wine
Poured from the soul
Not a screwed up bottle
As to let the words breathed
So no sly twixt the lip to the sip
Before raising a toast to this hangover
Never again to be sober