 |
|
I Like the Small Town, Blue Collar Types
Men like that have it easy, don't they?
Maybe they get down in the dumps, the wife leaves them
then the girlfriend calls it quits, kids show
no respect, dog runs away from home. They lose their jobs,
stop shaving, & go to strip clubs for the only
good time they've had in months.
God knows
I suffer from the grass is always greener, but isn't that easy?
I'd love to have a wife to leave me, kids to call me names
or a mutt that takes off barking, Find yourself
a new best friend, buddy. I'm outta here.
Yeah well, I'm not much of a handful
& maybe I got a lot of woman in me I call her Cookie,
you can too but tell the truth: Wouldn't
these legs look great extending three
slim feet below the too
too short hem of a dress?
Picture it: A street corner. Down-
town. Lots of lights. The wind picks up & I grab my shoulders
& rub. Brrr. I'm waiting for any old
vehicle to pull up when a horn
beepbeeps amid the general din of the street.
I turn. The window's down on a 60s blue Chevy, the grille
a mouthful of chrome.
Hey little lady, he says & winks like only
he knows how. You don't have to ask twice
before I'm in the front seat kissing vinyl
to my tight ass, cos' man, he's as close
as I'm gonna get.
|
