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I was looking for a court to hold |
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Hard-pressed woman, unimpressed, she'd heard it all |
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She said, "I like your face, that should be enough |
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Look, it's raining like a film noir" |
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Hard-pressed woman listened as I carried on |
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I offered up my coat, she offered up her shirt |
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Waiting for the train, ventilation blows up her skirt |
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Hooked me with a wit as clean as glass |
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Hard-pressed woman with a hair across her ass |
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The singing of her keys, the clicking of a latch |
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She said, "This could be my best advice" |
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Hard-pressed woman pouring something over ice |
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No lotions in a bath, no powders when it's done |
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No paper on the panes to filter out the morning sun |
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As it settles down, you're more eccentric every year |
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A microscopic view of something I could never get near |
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I woke up and she was sound asleep |
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Hard-pressed woman softly pressing up to me |
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A smoky mess of hair, the scratchiness of feet |
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A muffled car alarm screaming in the empty street |