| the first time that i met her
|
| i was throwing up in a ladies room stall.
|
| she asked me if i needed anything
|
| i said i think i spilled my drink.
|
| and that’s how it started.
|
| (or so i’d like to believe)
|
| she took me to her mother’s house outside of town
|
| where the stars hang down.
|
| she said she’d never seen someone so lost.
|
| i said i’d never felt so found.
|
| and then i kissed her on the cheek.
|
| and so she kissed me on the mouth.
|
| oh oh oh oh.
|
| spring was popping daises
|
| around rusted trucks and busted lawn chairs.
|
| we moved into a studio in council bluffs
|
| to save a couple of bucks.
|
| where the mice came out at night.
|
| neighbors were screaming all the time.
|
| we’d make love in the afternoon
|
| to chelsea girls and bachelor number 2.
|
| i’d play for her some songs i wrote
|
| she’d joke and say i’m shooting through the roof.
|
| i’d say they’re all for you dear.
|
| i’ll write the album of the year.
|
| and i know she’d love me then.
|
| i swear to god she did.
|
| because the way she’d bite my lower lip
|
| and push her hips against my hips.
|
| and dig her nails so deep into my skin.
|
| the first time that i met her
|
| i was convinced that i had finally found the one.
|
| she was convinced i was under the influence
|
| of all those drunken romantics.
|
| i was reading Fante at the time.
|
| i had Bukowski on my mind.
|
| she got a job at jacob’s
|
| serving cocktails to all the local drunks.
|
| against her will i fit the bill
|
| i perched down at the end of the bar.
|
| she says space is not just a place for stars.
|
| i give you an inch you want a house with a yard.
|
| and i know she loved me once.
|
| but now those days are gone.
|
| she used to call me every day
|
| from a payphone on her break for lunch
|
| just to say she can’t wait to come home.
|
| to come home.
|
| to come home.
|
| yeah home.
|
| the last time that i saw her
|
| she was picking through which records were hers.
|
| her clothes were packed in boxes
|
| with some pots and pans and books and a toaster.
|
| just then a mouse scurried across the floor.
|
| so i laughed until it didn’t hurt.
|
| i laughed until it didn’t hurt.
|
| i laughed until it didn’t hurt.
|
| ah right. |