I’ll Have a Perfect Manhattan Up with a Twist

by Christine Adams Beckett

manhattan dry

For Jack

We argued over piddly things
My shoelace broke while tying
I forgot my keys on the desk
And some days I feel like crying.

Let’s go out for a glass of lunch,
I find myself a quart low;
That conference call went on and on
And my meter’s running slow.

A perfect Manhattan straight up with a twist
Made with only high shelf booze
Two parts Whistle Pig rye whiskey
That ol’ bourbon, Barkeep, lose.

The afternoon seems fruitless
I skipped office coffee hour.
It’s certainly five o’clock somewhere
So let’s blow this office tower.

Let’s go out for a glass of happy
I find myself a quart low
There’s plenty of seats at the bar
And I ain’t drinkin’ no Merlot!

A perfect Manhattan straight up with a twist
Made with only high shelf booze
No chardonnay, Barkeep, please;
For my dry blood needs to transfuse.

The nights are long, when you are gone
I’m trying to distract myself
And every hour that you don’t call
I look up to that high shelf.

So let’s go out for a glass of supper
I find myself a quart low
The phone’s grown cobwebs, does it even work?
This evening’s been a lonely go.

A perfect Manhattan straight up with a twist
Made with the high shelf booze,
Add a dash of Angostura bitters
To chase away my bitter blues.

The dirty brown water has crept back in
To pollute my pristine way;
I’m starting back at the first of twelve steps
Powerless, I’ve gone astray.

A perfect manhattan straight up with a twist
Made with the high shelf booze
Gave me a hangover, I now regret
Trying to drown those bitter blues.

 

©2014, All Rights Reserved

Lyrics: Christine Adams Beckett

Music: Mark Louis Miller

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