I am tired of writing love songs about you

Because they do not work
Because I cannot bring myself to summarise the hurt
When it's greater than just words

I traced your lips with my fingertips
As you held my neck and drowned me

I tried to keep the bubbles in my hands
For the day you'd come drown me again
Funny how a heart so small
Could wreck such treacherous trouble

Will you hold me closer?

When you say 'sing me a song'
And I think it's because you love it

But you were right all along
You were in love with my need
A need for something more than greed
And I could not play along

So the songs sounded the same
Because all we had was a blank page
Blander than a desert tongue
Will you hold me closer?

And still I begged
Because it is all I know to do
I crashed walls through
Just to get to you
A fool a fool a fool
I played for you

I turned tipsy as the world went spinning round and round in psychedelic swabs
Liquor after liquor
Anesthesia
Only brings out pain
I gave in
Because it is all I know to do
In a dark place full of wastrels waiting for love

Will you hold me closer?

I came here
Ready to regret
A little revelry to rock the bland away

Yet how far could I run with your clutches round my neck?

I tore up the pieces of paper
That I wasted all on you
Happier times
Haughtier lies
I tore up all the words I gave to you

No more poetry for the first time your lips touched mine
Or how you playfully pushed me by the seaside
The days before you showed your wicked side

No more circles with endless lines
Here I'm staring at the blank page right before my eyes
Ready to rewrite

What was life like
Before you?

Your eyes meet mine amd smile

One last time
Will you hold me closer?

When you spend all your money
And people crowd around
And pull your phone
Girls night out
And your best friend is talking to her boyfriend
And you're standing alone
Seems to be the only thing you've known
Roxy Cabaret  Sundays
Holding your bottle and facing these demons
As you're friends forget you're home
The country beat drops and
You still feel too drunk to be this alone

I never mastered the grind.
That won every girls affection.
I guess it's really quite difficult.
When you become your own deflection.

Once I was that nineteen year old.
Drunk and disorderly.
Grinding on your back.
You got bored of me.

Sure its fun - for both it seems.
Sometimes it's a horrid match.
A silly game with an undefined winner.
Sometimes it's all you need to land your catch.

But as you grow you see things clearly.
The smoke machined air thins and the lights begin to brighten.
You see the complexity of your dilemma.
You've assumed you'd get it all - what a great big error.

You want the beauty you've desired night long.
But you've gone about it all wrong.
You want the companion most never find.
But will she see it or remain blind.

It seems one is possible.

Where do I go to be one whole person?

I am really not passible
Just **** as possible
For a well-worn *****.
And, they call me Missy
Because I don’t think I can
Act like a masculine man
So spare me your hissy fit
Go someplace and get over it.

I can walk well in high heels
Don’t need any training wheels.
My taste in clothes is excellent
Not the slightest bit recalcitrant.
I’m fully into the new club scene
About half way to a drag queen.
One more piece of women’s wear
I’ll be ready to go about anywhere.

My movements are very delicate
And that is, of course, deliberate.
You get more if you advertise
And some assets I can’t disguise.
I’m six feet tall in my stocking feet
As spicy as Red Hots and twice as sweet.
If you don’t like your she-girls tall
Then you don’t know what’s good at all.

You’ll find me in cabarets, everywhere.
We’ll be up at the bar or in a chair
Showing off our legs and swinging
Lip-synching the words the juke is singing.
We’ll appreciate a drink, if you are buying,
We’ll make your day complete without trying.
We’re full of fun and know lots of jokes.
We’re a short vacation for the right blokes.

(And, no. It is not autobiographical.)

I don’t think I offended her,
And I don’t think she was sad
But the way she looked out at us
With envy, perhaps,
As we walked out of the club
Left me feeling something
In the pit of my stomach
I can’t quite understand.

She stared as if
We were kids at the party,
Boredom matching desires
To let the night take fire,
Arriving in nice cars,
Ordering expensive drinks
Watching a show
We'd only paid money to see.

She stared as if
Not from her view;
Legs split
Betwixt stage and sound,
Dancing somewhere between
Some kind of neon dream,
And a place she’d prefer not to be.

Smiles
Laughter
Liquor
Plasma screens
Cash registers
Deep cologne scents
Bouncers
Hot wings
Hair gel
Loud speakers
Lip gloss
High heels
Tight skirts
Cigarette smoke
Cell phones
Watches
Car keys
Last call for alcohol