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By coujeaux Date: 2003 May 04 Comment on this Work [[2003.05.04.11.34.25762]] |
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Chew existentialism over lunch, radicchio's got extra crunch, more power by the hour, She'd love to know secrets of their bearnaise although the sweet pork turned out sour. Drench it in ranch, spice it with vinegar, lil' touch of panache; oh, this ambience rocks, Why the hell can't I look above her neckline or remember even one word of our talks? Froth at the mouth like a man possessed, oh, hummingbird that she is, beats me hard, She teases with her lips but lashes with her hips until every part of my love is scarred. Venture out among the people, lighted by neon and glitter of pretty assumption, want, Night and the city are epiphanies and the addiction, but only if you want it fast or blunt. Mirrorballs in shake-it-halls and take-it-all-offs, she rub you down for ten and quarters, But don't tell the law what else she do for extra kicks or she stop your made-to-orders. Back doors and holes through the dilapidated walls, you hear just how everyone sighs, Listen even closer and their heartbeats thump with anticipation of the next pack of lies. Ambition is skyscraper high and plate glass brittle; gimme a stiff one, make it go away, Through the din of the traffic and scrambling of social malfunctions, can't have my say. It's all about kicks to forget days awry, not quite what we wanted or maybe even need, Always someone or somewhere to drown your sorrows or where some go to just bleed. Not made of the mettle you desire; we wish upon asphalt deities or champagne dreams, Got spine made of out the urbanite get forged by chasin' thrills through concrete beams. |