Sitting in a dime a dance bar some time back in the 80's. The driver waits.
The driver stares with his eyes Watches over the drinks. A broken bottle crashes down, stares of no hables ingles
"what you doing here?"
It's all out there. Time gone eternal.
Beer on the floor, the smell of urine, fat bullshit artists, dirty men, hard day at the office, no office exists
In a corner watered down drinks sing
Teardrop tones of buy me one more
Tatste the bare taste of loathing
This is a social life. Dont knock they let you in.
This was linda's Masters Degree in Liberal arts.
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