No love lost

The blonde doesn’t look happy at all
And neither does he
But he’s the sheepish one
She stands erect, her head away as if he stunk
Nobody gets lucky tonight I think
He’s holding two red roses
That he probably saw fit to haggle over
With some sad Paki wetback
He doesn’t know
What to do with them now
Doesn’t dare to waste them
He knows that people
On this late train
When most everyone is so damn tired
Have seen his sorry ass
Holding his sorry roses
The blonde makes him feel it
Roses have thorns I think
Oh hell
I just want to go home

Ellar Wise

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