Local Girl

I’m the girl who sits in the bar, drunk on the music never touching the alcohol; The quiet one in the shadows who knows all the words, In and out like a banshee but back for every show; The one whose drug is the rhymes,    I’m not there to get lit; Addicted to the rhythm, reckless on repeat; You may say it’s the bar where the trouble happens; I’ll take a dive bar with a band over a restaurant and bad decisions; Like everything else it’s a matter of perception;   Call me a black rose, the local girl in the back; Don’t  tell me the problem is the venue   filled with nothin’ but soul; The problem is people just begging for bouncers.