Midnight Bourbon Kiss
The neon’s flickering, the jukebox sighs, Your perfume still lingers in the amber light. I raise the glass, that bourbon’s kiss on my tongue— A fire that once burned warm when we were young. Every swirl tells a story of those midnight rides, When the moon was a lantern and love was our guide. Whiskey nights keep calling out your name, Each shot’s a echo of the love we made. That bourbon heat can’t be replaced, It’s the same old blaze that we once chased. Oh, it’s a midnight kiss that never quits— Your memory’s the fire in every sip. An empty tumbler sits where you used to sit, Shadows of our dreams still dance in the grit. Laughter’s fading like dust in a dried‑out bar, But the amber glow still knows just where you are. The bottle’s a compass, pointing straight to the past, Every clink of ice is a whisper that lasts. Whiskey nights keep calling out your name, Each shot’s a echo of the love we made. That bourbon heat can’t be replaced, It’s the same old blaze that we once chased. Oh, it’s a midnight kiss that never quits— Your memory’s the fire in every sip. I hear your voice in the low‑note pour, A soft‑spoken promise from the barroom floor. If sunrise finds me, I’ll still raise the glass, ‘Cause a bourbon kiss is the only thing that lasts.