Its dark, 4 AM, and I am drinking again. Trying to wipe her away. Sitting in the gloomy shadows, Not a sound to be heard, but the memories of her, tick around in my head, like some movie playing on repeat. Nothing seems to erase her from me, her laugh, her smile, her words. Another day - another drink. These tears they pour out right. She's been off and running. Doesn't seem she cares any more. The jukebox still plays our...