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 |
