Beethoven blares from the speakers,
and she’s thirsty.
I give her some acid and open my book.
James is on the floor, trying to keep up.
His guitar is a little off,
his mind out of tune.
Bobby’s alright sitting
tight against the wall.
A cold stare
fixed on yesterday’s newspaper.
It's apparent my reading just
isn’t going to get done.
I put away my book
and Beethoven rolls over.
James gets up,
Bobby stays put,
and as for that girl,
she’s in her own little world.
My feet won’t keep still
I start dancing.
James joins in.
Bobby hasn’t caught on yet.
And that poor girl,
is hiding under my bed.
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