Absinthe at home

A song...

I took a dozen red roses on Valentine’s Day.

To a foxy wild young lady,

Hoping she’d take in a stray,

She was just a few red doors away…

Just; a few red doors away.

 

I wanted her to cut her fine manicured fingers

I wanted her to break her hails her claws…

I wanted her to pluck out all my own, bleeding thorns.

And whisper down into my soul and say baby you’re a keeper.

 

But she was a drinker

But she was drinking Absinthe at home alone

And she said, who the hell - are you!

Have you come here to drink out of my glass slipper?

My shoe, who the hell - are you - this isn’t your home!

 

Then she too reminded me I only felt stoic strong…

If I too was drinking Absinthe at home alone

And she reminded me I only felt happy

Lying on my back; feeling empty, smelling of some old cologne.

…At the bottom of my sack.

 

So, I turned to take a dozen red roses on Valentine’s Day back.

And as I turned to be on my way

She said boy come on back here you look like a stray

And I need a lay…

 

She was a foxy wild young lady,

I was hoping she’d take in a stray,

She was just a few red doors away…

Just; a few red doors away.

 

I wanted her to cut her fine manicured fingers

I wanted her to break her hails her claws…

I wanted her to pluck out all my own, bleeding thorns.

And whisper down into my soul and say baby you’re a keeper.

 

She was a drinker

She was drinking Absinthe at home but no longer alone.