She was on that dive bar dance floor; shakin to that eighties mix She's trying to stay afloat in a fleet of relationships So when they play The Smiths She plays the mannequin or gets another drink Until she's drunk enough to dance again I'm standing in the corner while they're handling my order When I caught her trying to frolic in my field of vision She isn't my type, but that's alright I'd like to keep it all platonic cause I've got the premonition that She's never kissed a boy without a drink on his breath And she's never loved a man who didn't remind her of daddy She'll dance with dollar bottles singing "Living On A Prayer" If the bar can keep it's promise that an hour makes her happy She doesn't wear the locket that she got when she was six She wears the skirt a little lower on the weekdays She likes men that don't exist the morning after Cause a secret is a secret but a lover is a cheap date He was in the dive bar drinking on a champagne budget Cause he ain't nobody's husband when the buzz is in effect He tips the bartender single increments because She gives a little wink and then she shoves em in her dress You know the type Over forty, from Boston Only kicking game at women young enough to be his offspring She's trying to talk him into buying her a lager And pretend he don't remind her of her father He graduated with honors and got a job he hates Cause what the dreamers call a home he calls a trash heap He'll have another half a dozen gin and tonics If the bar can keep it's promise that an hour makes him happy He's been with women that never noticed his wedding ring He keeps a picture of his children in his briefcase They keep his wrists from the kisses of a razor And it's hard to find a savior in the city these days I was in the dive bar bathroom listening to last call I'm looking at a broken mirror like a glass ball Double vision was effecting the judgment But I wouldn't recognize that reflection if it wasn't Dude is buggin. Don't he know it's dangerous Assuming he knows a human he ain't even acquainted with? And maybe it's all peace as long as it ain't him But fed his own medicine, what would he say then? I bet he's never won a fist fight in his life And he's only charismatic when he's speaking on a back beat He'll catch a buzz and fall in love with a stranger If the bar can keep it's promise that an hour makes him happy Stereotypically skinny disheveled white boy Music elitist, guaranteed to hate the deejay He's trying to stress that he's so damn different I bet he didn't even notice he's the cliches he hates
She was on that dive bar dance floor; shakin to that eighties mix She's trying to stay afloat in a fleet of relationships So when they play The Smiths She plays the mannequin or gets another drink Until she's drunk enough to dance again I'm standing in the corner while they're handling my order When I caught her trying to frolic in my field of vision She isn't my type, but that's alright I'd like to keep it all platonic cause I've got the premonition that She's never kissed a boy without a drink on his breath And she's never loved a man who didn't remind her of daddy She'll dance with dollar bottles singing "Living On A Prayer" If the bar can keep it's promise that an hour makes her happy She doesn't wear the locket that she got when she was six She wears the skirt a little lower on the weekdays She likes men that don't exist the morning after Cause a secret is a secret but a lover is a cheap date He was in the dive bar drinking on a champagne budget Cause he ain't nobody's husband when the buzz is in effect He tips the bartender single increments because She gives a little wink and then she shoves em in her dress You know the type Over forty, from Boston Only kicking game at women young enough to be his offspring She's trying to talk him into buying her a lager And pretend he don't remind her of her father He graduated with honors and got a job he hates Cause what the dreamers call a home he calls a trash heap He'll have another half a dozen gin and tonics If the bar can keep it's promise that an hour makes him happy He's been with women that never noticed his wedding ring He keeps a picture of his children in his briefcase They keep his wrists from the kisses of a razor And it's hard to find a savior in the city these days I was in the dive bar bathroom listening to last call I'm looking at a broken mirror like a glass ball Double vision was effecting the judgment But I wouldn't recognize that reflection if it wasn't Dude is buggin. Don't he know it's dangerous Assuming he knows a human he ain't even acquainted with? And maybe it's all peace as long as it ain't him But fed his own medicine, what would he say then? I bet he's never won a fist fight in his life And he's only charismatic when he's speaking on a back beat He'll catch a buzz and fall in love with a stranger If the bar can keep it's promise that an hour makes him happy Stereotypically skinny disheveled white boy Music elitist, guaranteed to hate the deejay He's trying to stress that he's so damn different I bet he didn't even notice he's the cliches he hates
