Lullaby of Las Vegas

Sandy curls up on the settee
And complains about her mother;
I’m not sure why she’s talking to me,
I’ll do, as good as any other.

She won’t admit unless you ask her
How she acquired her new “personne”;
I believe she came here from Nebraska
From a farm that had no telephone.

Now she lives in a tall condominium
With expensive décor from ceiling to floor;
Her past, all erased, has subzero dominion
On the life that she’s been striving for.

Hollywood, I understand, didn’t quite work out,
There was a film or two, one shouldn’t enquire;
She’s a blonde busty girl, has a fine sexy pout,
But there are so many others with beauty for hire.

“O, my dedalus dear, I was so damn innocent,”
she cries, hugs a cushion to her chest;
“Men are such beasts, so concupiscient!”
Imagination slowly fills in the rest.

“I was so good,” she says, and strokes her little pet,
a sad disappointed poodle with mad neurotic eyes;
“No husband, no kiddies, oh, what a regret!”
I settle down, say nothing, and wait for more lies.

She’s undoubtedly gorgeous, but a bit of a pain,
And this chance encounter is becoming boring;
I just want to get back to my mates again,
then crash, and spend the whole night snoring.

Sandy’s still young, she’s only twenty-eight,
But things can happen faster than you think;
I scared off some guy who was intent on rape,
So it was then she invited me up for a drink.

I’m beginning to wish she’d got done
When I was elsewhere ….

Hang on, that’s hardly fair!
I don’t wish that at all.
When I am the only one
To prevent such random abuse
I’m happy to be of use
When I’m not on my way to a match, for example.

Can’t be rescuing or stepping in
Five minutes before the kick-off.
Stands to bloody reason,
They might score in the first minute

Highbury, Finsbury Park,
And all that feral dangerous lark
Was half a world away,
Half a continent and a great big ocean away,
So if I did what I did
altruistically, it was in my
spare time, realistically.

But this girl was more
Than I had bargained for.

I stared into the eyes of the half-crazed poodle
And he stared back, a firm connection:
Brothers under the skin.

I just had to get out of there and go,
As she prattled on about this, that, the other;
Why can’t a pretty woman relax and drink beer
And forget about her dragon-breathing mother?

She wants me to stay, this much I can tell,
But it’s hardly because I’m her beau ideal;
That’s not on the cards, she just feels like hell,
And needs me on hand to help her feel real,

To help her heal from what nearly happened.

No normal person would walk away.
I wanted to walk away.
I excused myself for a long thoughtful piss,
And thought to myself, what the hell is this?
But I settled down on the settee,
Slept very badly, and arose at three.

I had a look-in to see her before I left,
stepped in and watched her sleeping:
she was like a little child, all curled-up,
flushed and deeply breathing.
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