Crossed-legged Mary,
Sitting at the end of the bar
Short of skirt, beer loaded gun,
“We could have had such more fun”
She said, as Joe panics her out of his shirt.
“Bad, bad call hon’...The barman is gay!”
She yells.(,) As I stand up and say:
“One dance? One drink? One day?
Joe’s gay, that’s his way, but I’m not!”
She took her shoes of and walked away.
Pushed play, turned around and looked at me
“Very superstitious, writing’s on the wall”.
She tied her denim shirt and started dancing
My death call. “Rid me of the problem, do all that you can”.
And again, she dances ‘round the bar and I’m doomed.
Bare feet black skirt superstition ain’t the way,
“Nothing more to say”.
I swear I’d run with you and make your babies.
I swear I’d make a woman out of your drugged hore,
Encore. I swear, swear, swear...
Cross your legs and hope to die!
And there she goes,
Whispering Stevie’s Wonderful words:
“The devil’s on his way”.
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