double shot of vodka,
my watch is blinking 1700 hours
stood me up again,
and I have come to expect nothing but the best
from your behaviour.
the dust in the sills,
the age in the bartender’s smile
the scum that is sitting behind me
the exit sign that flickers slowly
it’s all a part of my design,
when should I make the change?
when I’m toppled over a trash can
wondering if I should drink more water while my insides empty?
I need a whole lot of convincing
and a whole lot of cash
and when you find me sitting down at the slots
razing my chips to the ground
maybe you’ll remember that at 1701 hours,
you left me behind again.