Dark dingy back room parlor
Josh Hartnett served simply
My roommate sat farther
She talked- speaking briskly
He seldom leaned over
Pouring glasses for the tipsy
She became lucid sober
‘Twas her eyes made her frisky
She couldn’t believe I ordered
Stepped up to get closer
He splashed me some whiskey
I lean on the bar, and into my shoulder
I thought as I watched
Amber drops hit the glass
He looked at me
This was just a passing chance
On those about town
On those we see around.
