Wednesday, April 18, 2007

I'm a Stripper

I arch my back and crawl around,
Wiggle my hips, then hang upside down.

The men are all yelling over their beers.
Thank God for the music, I barely can hear.

Flash a quick grin and go for the spread.
Some guy in front row turns shamefully red.

The pole is my friend up here on the stage,
And buddy over there should be locked in a cage.

Last song is over, I prance down the steps
And realize I fucking forgot all my tips.

I look back to see that they took back their bills.
They’re saving it now for the following girl.

Whatever, I mean, it was only five bucks.
Get my cd fast cause this DeeJay sucks.

Upstairs I can’t find my favourite lipstick
Probably “borrowed” by some other chick

My driver is waiting cause that’s my last show
I scan the makeup station cause I want to go

Forget about it, I pack up my shit
Pull out a doobie and have a quick hit.

I hobble downstairs with my very large bags
And push through the men – there are three fucking stags.

I stand by the door, turning down many men
They offer to give me rides, drinks, and cocaine.

The DeeJay hands me a note and I cuss.
My driver isn’t coming – I’m taking the bus.

I sit at the bar and decide to get hammered.
Resigned to the glamorous life of a dancer.

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