whining eyes

he waved her down to where he stood, but lost her in the neighborhood
of several hundred thousand other people
and by the time she found him there, his drink was lost, she couldn't care
but stood there, drenched in sweat, beneath the steeple~
slumping down to dusty ground with legs to watch, old Stanky Brown
is dragging through his medley, nasty fella
next time carry her own chair, ice cold water, put it there
a shady spot, not hot, beneath the 'brella

whining eyes,
like her mother
he never knew it,
but
she cries
like no other
he'll see her through it
'til she dies
oh no~

sometimes, takes you years to learn, the smartest way is not to burn,
though some folks like to hang out in the trenches
next time then, she'll plan ahead, carry her own banner head
and wave it high above the other wenches~
as for now, she doesn't care, he'll find her here, or meet her where
the mist is cool, and nearer to the porties
she only wants to find her place, a laggard in the human race
and rather cold, she's old, for in her forties

whining eyes,
like her mother
he never knew it,
but
she cries
like no other
he'll see her through it
'til she dies
oh no~