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In the Valley of Two-Dollar Pints of Red Hook IPA (Lyric) by <~> You may have measured twice,
but one cut was quick enough to core me
You talked to her all night
and claimed you didn't ignore me
And when I walked away
in even-placed steps
what made you think
that I wanted any less
Than I did when I came in here,
with hope still in place?
Before I saw you putting
that smile on her face
The one where the corners
suggested something more;
the look that she gave you
I could not ignore
So if I was angry
or overreacted,
if my eyes flashed
and my goodwill retracted
When I asked what was up,
when I called you aside,
and you said that we
had no date tonight
Blame it on green
Blame it on spite
Blame it on too many
Jack Daniels' tonight
Blame it on me
Blame it on you
Never mind. Fuck it.
I'll find someone new.
[You just have no listening for my confrontational 2 pint courage,
carpenter]
Up the ladder:
My Boyfriend's Afro Pick
Down the ladder:
The Queen & The Locksmith
Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
Arithmetic Mean: 7.1666665
Posted: October 28, 2002 7:59 PM PST; Last modified: October 28, 2002 8:30 PM PSTWeighted score: 6.58396 Overall Rank: 621 Comments:
You just wrote a great melodic
punk song. I got the guitar down perfect for this. you should call it "love and war"
or "Glass reactions"
The last stanza - very wise!
Dittos on the last three comments. Fun and true.
not so much fun saturday night, but now it's somewhat amusing. apparently, i'm not 'intellectually stimulating' enough for the man. although he seemed to find other bits of me more than stimulating enough. okay, so it's still not so much fun.
perhaps. an eight dollar barley wine filled glass, and a salt throw over my left shoulder for richard harris..i cry on your shoulder and repent for me and all of mine..in that valley everything hooks and my barbs get filed straight...how about another date?
sorry that i tend to over compensate, and right turn clyde the guard rail. want some kale? i have a new gun.
slumming, darling. that's what it's all about in the run down mill towns of the housatinic river valley.
Not a favorite. But you were pissed, so fair enough.
But I love the title!
serious poetry. and good beer.
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Hmm. Do you remember what I voted on this?