I got a type A mind with a type B will
An itchy trigger finger that never can kill
A palimony pal that don’t understand
My skull tattoo or my cold smoking hand
And all that’s worth toasting is absent friends
Who embrace the night every now and then
But friends and lovers never could see
Nighttime’s the lifestyle choice for me
And sometimes it’s better and sometimes it’s worse
Never been no blessing, but hardly a curse
And deals unlike taverns never do seem to close
It’s raining, anyway, so all the lovers are home
To tick away one more dull scripted kiss
While he’s praying for some missionary position gee whiz
It might be good I aint him cause that’d drive me to drink
But I don’t need no chauffeur with a sensuous streak
And a bent up perception of that fickle old truth
A penchant for leaving companions kinda blue
No, I’m standing on the corner of Rose street and Vine
Picking up something to ease my mind
But I know in the morning it’s more of the same
Cause I’ve already decided I’m forgetting her name
By Danny Wayne Cotton