She took off her stockings
|
I held 'em to my face
|
She had your ankles
|
I felt filled with grace
|
|
"Two hundred dollars straight in
|
Two-fifty up the ass" she smiled and said
|
She unbuckled my belt, pulled back her hair
|
And sat in front of me on the bed
|
|
She said, "Honey, how's that feel
|
Do you want me to go slow?"
|
My eyes drifted out the window
|
And down to the road below
|
|
I felt my stomach tighten
|
As the sun bloodied the sky
|
And sliced through hotel blinds
|
I closed my eyes
|
|
Sunlight on the Amatitlan
|
Sunlight streaming through your hair
|
In the Valle de dos Rios
|
The smell of mock orange filled the air
|
|
We rode with the vaqueros
|
Down into cool rivers of green
|
I was sure the work and the smile coming out 'neath your hat
|
Was all I'll ever need
|
|
Somehow all you ever need's
|
Never quite enough you know
|
You and I, Maria, we learned it's so
|
|
She slipped me out of her mouth
|
"You're ready," she said
|
She took off her bra and panties
|
Wet her fingers, slipped it inside her
|
And crawled over me on the bed
|
|
She bought me another whisky
|
Said "here's to the best you ever had"
|
We laughed and made a toast
|
It wasn't the best I ever had
|
Not even close
|
|
-----------------
|
Reno
|
| Bruce Springsteen |
