Chit Chat

She stood alone at the bar And without stopping to think He moved to her side And bought her a drink. She was young, she was pretty Pretty as any girl he’d seen, But she talked and she talked Like a runaway machine. He really thought, She’ll talk herself to death, For she never seemed to pause Even to draw her own breath. She talked through her drink, She talked through her food, She still talked away Even as she chewed. She talked and she talked In a world of her own It might have been better If she ever changed her tone. She invited him to her home, Invited him to her bed, And as he declined she asked, Was it something that I said? He started laughing then ‘til he couldn’t laugh anymore; But he was still giggling madly As she showed him to the door. And she was still talking As they stood on the street, He still giggling weakly And swaying on his feet. He bid her a good night, Unsteadily moved away Until he reached a place Where silence held sway. She was young, she was pretty, Pretty as any girl he’d seen But she’d talked and she’d talked Like a runaway machine.