Kim The Waitress

Pursed lips and tender hips
Turning, in my head
Writing poems in a corner booth
That I’d die, if she read
Seeing her in but a silver cross
Lying on her bed
No one can save us
From Kim The Waitress
No one can save us
From Kim The Waitress
Nobody can save us
From Kim The Waitress
Always turns me on
Sometimes she comes with coffee
Leaning over, pouring
I’d like to gently pull her to me
Kiss her, with no warning
Seeing her some sunny Sunday morning
No one can save us
From Kim The Waitress
No one can save us
From Kim The Waitress
Nobody can save us
From Kim The Waitress
Always turns me on
She doesn’t come around anymore
And that bothers me
And that bothers me
Yeah, it bothers me
Though I don’t stand a ghost of a chance with her
She’s pretty (and that bothers me)
So pretty (and that bothers me)
And it bothers me
No one can save us
From Kim The Waitress
No one can save us
From Kim The Waitress
Nobody can save us
From Kim The Waitress
Always turns me down
No one can save us
No one can save us
Nobody can save us