delusion

Whatever poison's in this bottle will leave me broken sore and stiff.
But it's the genie at the bottom who I'm sucking at.
He owes me one last wish.
So here's a present to let you know I still exist.
I hope the next girl that you kiss has something terribly contagious on her lips.

But I got a plan (I got a plan)
Drink (drift) for forty days and forty nights.
A sip for every second-hand tick.
And for every time you fed me the line, "you mean so much to me...".
I'm without you.