In a middle of a bow
I look down in shame
Hoping to change my praise
Bored audiences come to see
The comedian meant for everybody's boisterous laughter
Among those drunk faces I see the light
It's the fairness of your countenance
I am immediately attracted
And I don't feel so ashamed
But, I must admit I felt quite shy, indeed
She tells me, "You were hilarious, how about buy me a drink?"
I oblige
Telling her, " How lovely the roses look on her pale palms."
All this while trying to cheer her up
She doesn't laugh much
But, she talks quite a bit
I notice she is drunk
Inebriated as I am
The crowd vanishes
And it just her and me
And the comedy of a punk