Meet me at Pete’s Place?

by on December 12, 2013 :: 0 comments

Of course I hoped you’d find it, opened up briefly just for you
and to say a few things I guess, and then heck I didn’t want other people reading it,
not like I advertise and they were so then I felt like an idiot and existential panic
set in I wanted my private life back, and just silly girl stuff,
but what it comes down to is really, I didn’t know you were reading my old blog how could I?
So better late than never I’ll ask you now to meet me at Pete’s Place
some Saturday afternoon share a shivery pitcher of tap brew
or Stella Artois’ sheer blonde in a bottle for me oh I bet you’re a bourbon man
shoot we could have fun drinking mineral water on ice with lemon and a cig
later on when it starts to get dark in the parking lot out back by the alley
I’ll keep watch while you surreptitiously scratch our secret initials
buried in a heart on the graffiti brick wall
juke box still just a quarter sway close to slow old songs
we really could just dance away our cares
I’ll even let you take me clear around the world hopping diamonds on the rail
c’mon daddy you could have the whole enchilada
do you even know cuánto te necesito and hey whaddaya say?

editors note:

Oh, Baby! Gimme that enchilada now. Te necesito aún más! – mh

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