01 July 1999

The End Of July

I didn't want to smoke when I asked for a cigarette,
I just needed an excuse to approach you. Yeah, maybe
I could've come up with a better line, but at the time
I was too drunk to care, and besides, I saw you looking.

You spoke French better than me, and I can't understand why
You kept it going. By that time, I had my cigarette,
You had your beer, and told your friends it was alright to leave
You with me, that you weren't ready to go just quite yet.

My friend Sandy told me I could bring you to her place since
My car wouldn't be comfortable, flashing her keys in
My face and saying she'd find a cab home later after
My little escapade was over; she said in "twenty".

Your words during the beginning made me wonder about
Your motivation, saying I kissed like I was in love,
Your hands tearing at my hair, then nails scraping down my back,
Your fingers grabbing, almost ripping away at my skin.

I didn't understand what you said in the morning when
You got out of my car and walked across the street, maybe
My mind was cluttered from having no sleep, remembering
Your name only after you slammed the door and I drove off.

"I'll probably never see you again - thanks for the ride."