I'm waiting for your heartbeat to slow, for the crowd to part in order to see you; I'm waiting for the music to slow down, for the glasses to stop clinking; I'm waiting for that red-breasted Minx to get her hand off your shoulder because there's no way I'm comin when someone's got her claws into you; I'm waiting for the hour d' evour to feature tiny spinach pies so that minx can get the mischievous quasi-lettuce between her teeth and have to go to the bathroom to fish it out; I'm waiting for you to stand there alone, leaning against the bar, cupping your gin and tonic, surveying the room; I'm waiting for the room to empty out a bit; now that the moon's gone behind the clouds it's really close to that time; I'm waiting for that moment when the pianist winks his eye and grins, telling us it's his last song for the night; I'm waiting for you to finish biting your lower lip and just when you think you'll be going home alone, baby, that's when I'm breezin on over

08/20/2004

Posted on 08/20/2004
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