Untitled

Tropicana

I've got just enough gas to make it outside the Tropicana.
Go in
And watch the girls put on a show.
And sit.
And drink.
And laugh.
And not think.
About you
Or anyone I know.

I'll pretend that this scene
Is like nowhere I've been.
I'll pretend I'm someone happy for tonight.
But the pole and the stage
Reflect like a mirror of my age
That I can't afford it,
And, No, I wasn't right.

What did I ever see in myself
That made me think this was where I was supposed to be.
But the questions run to deep
Like the drama in my sleep
So I blow another twenty.
Shut my mouth so I won't see.

And the alcohol's no good when you're sick.
The tits don't always do the trick.

Where's my wallet?
Where's my watch?

And if I took one of these pretty one things home with me
tonight,
What would I tell her I do?
Would she like what I've written?
Would she care that I write?
And would I tell her about you?