Which is followed by swigs and shots
Glistening gold angels
Their faulty auras from neon lights
And I hope eventually these things
That act as mercinaries for my subconscious
Neither good or bad
Will take control and somehow
Do the work for me
Make me permissable
Somehow put me where I want to be
Behind your eyes
Foolishly, my better self intervenes
And the end result is you and me
Making our own concoction
Of flirtatious awkwardness
So that I can report back to my friends
"Do you think she likes me? I can't tell."
But he is only half-listening
While he makes concoctions of his own
So I have another drink
Check the sports scores
And wait for anything to happen
Possible debauchery
But probably not
Maybe a slice on the way back
Not sure yet
Now that is my idea of a good time