"Shot of wine? Glass of whisky?"
You know we'll never stop. I
thought I told you that. huddled
round the table, glassy. Loveless,
sleeveless waitress. We're grilled
now, warmly toasting, and we'll
be chunky later, "I knew." A Crow-
King's blowout in the rain to decorate
the wet blacktop of my home alley.
1 is never enough for me, and 2 is
rarely too much. These people--friends
and such--I love them, and hate others.
Those people I see quite enough oft,
who sit in my tables, who waste my time,
who fake opinions and emotions, I'm
sure--I enjoy their absence on every
night off. But this song is not about
them, you understand. Nothing is.
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