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Description
~After Hours~

Little birds sing by her window at sunrise,
What does she look for first?
Should have seen her last night,
All that's meant to be, happens after hours,

When she's good, she's good, and when she's bad, she's good,
Walked in her heels like she was on a tight rope, hips swaying,
She caught him in her fishnets,
Gave him a kiss before she let him go,

Got a lot of bites that night,
He was dancing, wondering "What am I looking for now?"
Carried on in a bad way,
Fell hard and didn't let go when given permission to hold on,

They took it with them,
Now there are pictures on the walls, albums in the closet,
Scotch on the coffee table,
It feels like home,

She feels the warmth of the absent body beside her,
Kicks her legs out from under the blankets,
Love that arouses no spoiled expectations,
She makes her way to where she knows he'll be,

The early bird got up first,
There's coffee and cigarettes on the table, burnt toast and a newspaper,
She always wondered how he survived this long,
Sheer stubbornness, she thought.

After Hours © J-Goth/Amanda P.