Drunk at the bar at last, last call ? my baby’s home on her night off, So I’m involved in a serious talk with a girl I had known growing up. So we buy a six; decide to split ? she has a downtown apartment. She opens the door, falls to the floor, says, “I’m bitter sick of sweet and pure, take me now I’m yours.”
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Notes in his pockets, rumors in the mill, phone calls after the bars close ? unlisted numbers. If she only knew, then he’d be through ? but who knows which parts are true. She hates how it looks, but what can she do? The girls all talk behind her back, they say she’s being used.
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At Sullivan’s drinking with Justin, he says he’s seen my ex-girlfriend. She’s back in town ? and what’s worse ? he knows where and when she works. So we head over to the Underwood, she’s trading shots with regulars: She gives me a hugs ‘til our hips are flush, says, “Boy, we’ve hardly kept in touch ? it’s time for catching up.”
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Notes in his pockets, rumors in the mill. Phone calls after the bars close ? unlisted numbers. Still, he insists on his innocence; says those girls are all gossips. She’s gotta drop the axe ?catch him in the act ? with his shame around his ankles, chain the guilt around his neck.
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Notes in His Pockets
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| The Good Life |
