After dark in a local venue.
I excuse myself to the toilet
and think about what to do.
Loo's are made for thinking after all
and bars are for drinking after all.
And after all, the ice is chinking around
at the bottom of your glass.
So it only makes sense that I top you up.
And before I take my chance I see a man advance,
ask you to dance and you pretend you're from France
and he goes away looking confused.
Man number two sidles up to you,
to try to woo anew.
Asks if this seat's taken and you tell him no,
but if he doesn't go then he may as well know that there'll
be another spare waiting beside it.
At this point, I admit I am chuckling.
A fearful approach becomes a visual delight
as man number three comes close and man, he comes close.
He starts off cheesy with a question coordinator.
He asks "What do you do?"
You say "Female impersonator."
I almost spit my drink and stifle a laugh.
But the man continues on because he seems to be daft.
His voice is now high, a bit like a tenor.
"Sweetie, what's your sign?"
And you say 'Do not enter."
He's off on that one, you sheathe your vocal sword.
I do all that I can to hold back my applause.
But it's probable cause that worn number four comes to adorn
the seat of romance stillborn as I ask the barmaid for popcorn.
And I seem to have come to revel in this visual display
as, yep, I guessed it, she tells him she's gay.
But he's not going yet, he stays in his chair.
He tells you, for you, he'd go to the end of the world.
And I watch him fall apart, until he's completely unfurled.
"If so, then please stay, at the end of the world."
He's off, she looks over, she catches my eye.
Smile at her, shake my hand, wave goodbye.
And leave this place into brightening skies.
And in my being I know it to be true.
That no man may take his beauty from you.
