Hive

Cheap whisky in plastic cups, bright lights, fake smoke and loud music. And the same old drama every Friday night.

 he’s got his hands closing in around my neck

my body up against the nightclub wall

i’ve been told before i have a way with words

but i never really had a way with men at all

 

all night we’re out at the cold steps over the close

founding civilisations on sex and cigarettes

swap phone numbers wrong on purpose, aftershock in every colour

nothing he told me about himself made any sense

 

you’re an idiot girl, he’s got someone waiting

“she says she’s still my girlfriend, but things are really bad”

she might not be here, she’s still prettier than you

accusing me of using all the charm i never had

 

last orders, mixing whisky and tequila in a plastic glass

i leave the club with no one, trying to keep some self control

you’re going home with no one and you can hardly even walk

i never really liked this, but it’s only rock and roll…

Author's Note

I need help with the scanning!