She's wearing glasses and sits behind glass, He's wearing gloves; blue eyes in a mask, The note: "I haz Gun?" Hastily written, Brown eyes meet blue eyes. The brown eyes are smitten.
In the distance, The Sweeney, all tongs and hammer, She's fixing his spelling, correcting his grammar, Writing down her number, she slides the note back. He was expecting used fivers stuffed in a sack.
Outside: The driver's impatiently waiting. Inside: Wide open, blue eyes dilating, Then he runs, glancing back, and he's out in the rain, From the glass case - a sigh - she'll never see him again.
But at the end of her shift and in less of a hurry, In a whistle with some flowers - he takes her out for a curry.
Not that I care or mind, but True love seems hard to find. Time was... You found a pretty girl, Made her your wife, Took care of her, And were happy for life. Couples looked out for each other, Nowadays they just fight one another.
I remember watching my mother Standing by my father's grave. Tall, black-veiled and brave - Then she suddenly collapsed, - A column of tears. At least she got fifteen years. Remorse? Maybe - of a sort. Probably just annoyed she got caught.