he caresses every bottle
  like it's the first one he's had
  saying
  it ain't love
  but it ain't bad
  it's the only reward
  bestowed upon me
  and I have served faithfully
    I can see he is scarred
  from doing some hard time
  but I let alone what is broken
  'cause it isn't mine
  he strikes out at me
  when I am within reach
  then he reaches for me
  when I draw the line
    sometimes it seems like love
  is just a fancy word for compromise
  you gotta read between the years
  you gotta write between the lines
  you gotta try to understand
  the grandness of the man behind the petty crimes
  and let him off easy sometimes
    I have only just met
  an old old friend
  we've been walking around holding hands
  I hope some day he can bend
  as far as it takes to understand
  and risk breaking open again