The air is thick with perfume and cologne,
It's that time again,girls and boys out on the prowl,
Ladies flashing their fingers, to show tyey're alone,
Men responding while she walks by, with a growl,
Hormones flying all over the place,false everything,
Why cant we just be ourselves,
Make-up caked round their faces creating a ring,
To the point where we consist of chemist shelves,
Nails, skin,eyes, hair, teeth, all out of a bottle,
Surely guys, you dont like these orange girls,
Au naturale thoughts make them gag and throttle,
Spray tan this, false up that,wear a tooth pick, and swirl,
Take one home and next morning, her face is on the pillow,
And your sheets have turned bronzy gold,
You've just stood on a falsie, lacerating your big toe,
Half an hour in the bathrrom and your water is cold,
But the funny thing is, when she leaves all so bare,
You find out that she's very attractive,
Then tonight, when you see her, with very big hair!,
Call a cab, run away, to the next gig...
(c) eileenmcgreevy@ymail.com 2010
