all blank pastor perches at booth #3, black bible beside the scramble with extra cheese. I know he smells my breath, beer and bourbon, headache hangin over me, stomach churning, what a shame to be so ashamed of me. Can't remember the night before, some girl yelling over me. Over my beer dreams. I'm next to nothing.
Alright, I can clean this mess up, just get on with your lives. The hangover's nothing compared to your eyes.
What can I get you? What can I be? A dry stale grin with extra cheese. Only ten more hours till I'm home to the breeze and in walks the girl that I saw in my beer dreams.
No, I'm not serving her. The chipped nails and pigtails are sharper than words. I guess there are other places to work, and if I quit right now, would that be the worst? That's not what the bosses tell me, they say you'll serve her and serve her gladly. She scowls at me, I apologize profusely. She says I want this one on you for all the times you cheated on me. Alright, I can pay you back, serve you solace in life.
She says if you want to be a man, you have to own up to the people you make bleed.
all rights reserved