Acme Bar and Grill
by Stephen B. Harvey
by Stephen B. Harvey
On occasion we go out to a local spot
Juke and talk a bit, drinking beer followed by a shot
A burger joint with sticky chairs and a lengthy wooden bar
Playing with some local band with twanging old guitars
Waking from the empty house where we pass our days
The kids are gone, the spark as died, we’re set within our ways.
I come here on a Friday night, to the bar and grill
To open up my eyes again and give myself a thrill
It’s not too hard to notice the cute ones here and there
The ones without their boyfriends, the ones with streaked blond hair.
And if I had that one right there, sitting at that table
I wonder if could keep it up; I wonder if I’m still able.
The brown eyed girl who’s sitting beside that struttin’ queer
She stares at me and other guys while nursing a cold beer
The cute one at the bar who smiles while giving me a glance
I’m sure if we were alone outside I’d get inside her pants
The blond one too, the one with rouge smeared on her pasty face
I’m sure she’s quick but lacks the social grace
But I think I like the one in black, her skirt above her thigh
The one I am more than sure been givin’ me the eye.
She’s tall and light and has good teeth, black paint upon her nails
Her number’s on the bathroom wall so I’m sure to get some tail.
My mind is wild and crazy now I need good stiff drink
I wish I’d left my golden band on the bathroom sink
The girl I’m with is old and worn about the seams
While I’m still 21 years old wearing tight blue jeans
Ah, this song I know from many years ago, an old forgotten dance
It’s when I met another girl; I thought I take a chance
So I look beside me at the woman staring to the crowd
I see she eyes of some younger guy so I ask her right out loud
To dance with me for old time sake, to spark that old desire
In trying once again to catch that passion and that fire
I grab her hand and with a jerk I spin her to the floor
And reignite the evening time of many years before.
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