Absinthe At Home

I took a dozen red roses on Valentine's Day. To a foxy wild young lady, Hoping she'd take in a stray, She was just a few red doors away… Just; a few red doors away. I wanted her to cut her fine-manicured fingers. I wanted her to break her hails her claws... I wanted her to pluck out all my own, bleeding thorns. And whisper down into my soul and say, baby, you're a keeper. But she was a drinker. But she was drinking Absinthe at home alone. And she said, who the hell - are you! Have you come here to drink out of my glass slipper? My shoe, who the hell - are you - this isn't your home! Then she too reminded me I only felt stoic strong… If I too was drinking Absinthe at home alone And she reminded me I only felt happy. Lying on my back; feeling empty, smelling of some old cologne. …At the bottom of my sack. So, I turned to take a dozen red roses on Valentine's Day back. And as I turned to be on my way. She said boy come on back here you look like a stray. And I need a lay… She was a foxy wild young lady, I was hoping she'd take in a stray, She was just a few red doors away… Just; a few red doors away. I wanted her to cut her fine-manicured fingers. I wanted her to break her hails her claws… I wanted her to pluck out all my own, bleeding thorns. And whisper down into my soul and say, baby, you're a keeper. She was a drinker She was drinking Absinthe at home but no longer alone.