Slow Pour, Slow Draw

Don't rush the pour, the neck knows better
Let it ribbon down the side of the glass
Don't rush the draw, the leaf gets bitter
If you pull on it like it might not last

I learned that from a man with no hurry
Sat three stools down in a room like this
He said boy, the night is a long brown river
You can drown in a hurry or you can drift

There's a kind of man who drinks to finish
There's a kind who drinks to stay
I used to be the first. I'm practicing the second
It's a thinner kind of brave

Clock hands can run
I don't have to
Ash can fall
I don't have to tap it through

Don't rush the pour
Don't rush the pour
Don't rush the pour
Don't rush the pour