They said let by-gones be
Just like that and it’s history
But will my story tell you of I’wisha
Lounging in bars pouring rounds of I’coulda
Throwing back shots loads of I’woulda?
Stagnated in a state of drunken debate
And wallowing with the infamous I’shoulda.
All the while sand keeps slippin through my fingers.
Reason whispers, “I thought better of you though,
Time’s a precious commodity boy,
Way too expensive to waste or lose.
How much yours going for, these days?”
R A P