Bar Maids

These ladies never have a ring on the finger
They speak like they know too many sailors
Always bringing the lowest denominator
Puts limits on how sober you can be
Look at my tits, take a shot
Eye fuck me, get a beer on the house
Just always leave me some Bens
A green soaked cotton false dream
Saying I appreciate just enough
Fuck sentiment, give me consistency
One familiar thing in my life
Something that I can come back to
Somewhere I can recognize
Maybe the lists are always lost
Jump from tree to tree
Even when surrounded by the familiar
I stumble through strange crowds

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