Two Hours on Thursday Night at Earl’s

I’m on the spot where the last guy was
seeing the game and I ain’t afraid to look.

Slow it down.
Take it in.
Mine is a moment I ain’t done with yet.

I got 15 bucks in my pocket
and a dime for the meter.
I’m paying for my watching privileges.

There’s a glass busted on the floor.
There’s a conversation drowning in beer.
There’s God in the mayo.

People are just being.
Like cable TV in 3D.
Everything’s on.

Rhythm in the lights.
Go on the floor.
And a turn gets taken.

There’s two chicks sitting at a table.
There’s a rhythm to their movin’
There’s a beat to their groovin’
There’s a place behind their mask where a stranger ain’t seen.
It’s a sacred place,
The only place where,
A feelin’ can go shopping for a dream.

She’s got a look
That makes me look.
She’s got a habit
That makes me bad.
She’s got a light
That burns me bright.
She’s got a mask
That I can hide.

This ain’t no place for romance.
There’s a notch in the stick and
She’s driving the boat.
I’m laying odds she’ll win.

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