shorehouse jazz session 2

title: potted plants
the only
marlow
lady basco


Naked face
Lost keys
At work
But not working
Came here to spend
So lend me an ear
Find my keys
My sanity
Give me a donut
A cup of joe
But I do not
Really know
How to unlock
The door
Any other way
So please
My keys
Suddenly appear
Dont leave
Like everyone else in my life
Right
Another sob story
Right
The little girl of abandonment
Stranger to entitlement
Blame it on the Tapatio man
You know he saw
Them disappear
But he doesnt care
Hes got better things
To do
Like wear
A sombrero
Burn someones taste buds
Add some spice to a dull life
So Ill shrug
For a moment
Forget the keys
Just be
Here with the only
Here with marlow
Counter me
Chili cheese fry dreams
Yellow tickets go round
Come out with the plates
Workout while making money
Smile for that tip
Stare at this lip
While I bite my tongue
You stutter drunk
And Im the punk
Lucky theres no spit in your food
Im not that rude
Dont flatter yourself
Youre just another case on the shelf-
A lost sense of self
Aloneon the phone with no cab ride home
What would change
This feeling?
Chili cheese fries catch
My eyes and promise
Me the power of the delicate flower my sweet midori sour
Sour like the hours wasting away at the shorehouse café
Watching night put on day
Day wear night
Wait
What day is it today
Its always early when you dont sleep
Its always late when youre awake
As if to awake to the tableau of the fake will make it okay
To face a new daywithout pay
Cash over fist
the taxable pissed..
we can swipe the cards of 1000 retards
and still come back to bitch
you make me itch
twitch
Im allergic to you
So tragic, its true
So whats new with you?
Is your life still filled with dumb news?
Your girlfriend is sick-in the bathroom of doom
Is your credit declined
Your parking ticket fined
Your parents in line
To pay of the debt of this time
You fucking slime
Ew
Sick of your spew
Never something new
Show me your tattoos
Show me your smile
Youre so hot
Whats your hang out spot
Here
You queer
As I dole out warm beer
You watch my ass as I deliver that glass
of what helps you steer clear
of whats really here
of whats in the mirror
Like the one in the mens room
Washing your hands
Ignoring the smell
That stands the test of time
And the sign
Our window reads outstanding breakfast lunch and dinner
It should say welcome! Come on in and be my middle of the night splinter
Right under my nails
For a piece of tail
At the pace of a snailwith the sour dough
Stalelike you
Shoot
The waitresses be pretty
The waitresses bring me my food
Im a washed up pity
Im just another loud dude
Hey
I dont usually do this
But miss
I was wondering if I could get your number
Take you away from this
Maybe offer you a kiss
And from the corner of my lip a curl
As I dismiss
You dick
Im not that kind of girl
I suppose you usually dont sleep either
Or eat
Or fart
Because youre not human
And you must not be if you survive
This meal
Which will steal nutrition from your body
What a deal
Im your after 2 o clock thrill
Does your wife know you live out your fantasies with the server
On the corner
She can find you on 2nd and la verne
Would she be concerned
Undress me more
Im your aproned whore
Do you think shed mind
While I serve your fries
I fuck you on top of the open menu
Suck you while you drink your au jus
Sugar your coffee with my saliva
Be the company to your insomnia
Hold your hand while you fork my cunt
Be the understand in your drunken blunt
Cradle your words like I care
As I interpret your cock eyed stare
As something less than debonair
I could tear you apart
Destroy all you are
If you could see in my head
You would cry in your bed
If you knew how I felt
Past the tuna melt
If you knew that when I see you wave at the door
I wave back and under my breath I abhor
You
And all that are with you.yeah you know my name.but so do the others
And your mother
And your brother
Its all undercover
You werent expecting a one- eared lover
Surprise surprise
Theres a sudden change in your eyes
Or the hard core punk rocker that has a fucking daughter
A face of an angel-mouth of a sailor
You wait at the door for the angst to unpour
Your slurred gibberish
A mouthful of shit
But enough about you
And your george Jefferson pimp walk
Im a little more than this pink blue purple blonde mohawk
Got these lines in my head
When put together resemble words
Theres a vacancy in my bed
A soul alone waiting to be heard
Not by myself
Upon a roach littered mattress
While you try to impress me like a left handed hat trick
I am past this unattractive
pro-active underhanded
manipulation
masturbation
cause you get off on yourself anyway
could have been any girl
any girl at all

pick your pleasure
well hope for some sort of treasure
no
no
our guard will not go down
were the girls behind the counter
the regulars of this town
youre amused
were abused
but its part of our truce
right?
Nice talking with you tonight
Heres your tab
Whenever youre ready
no hurry
please
please
by all means, go on with your story
Im listening
Im happy

Where the fuck are my keys
Fucking palm trees