Nice Shoes

She puts on her make-up, And does up her hair. She wants to look good ‘cause she knows he’ll be there. A little slip dress And sexy high-heels To catch his attention, And spin out his wheels. She sits at the bar stool But stares at the floor. She knows any minute He’ll come through the door. Her pulse starts to race As she catches his scent He’s standing behind her, Such blissful torment. A month now he’s known her And, Lord, has he tried To get her to see him. Her scent has him fried. She smiles and nods as he starts to walk by. She knows he won’t like her She’s horribly shy. He sees that she’s staring His pulse skips a beat. Maybe she knows How she turns up the heat. She wishes she knew Something witty to say So he’d know she wants him And possibly stay. And just as she thinks She’s all out of luck, He leans in and whispers “Nice shoes, wanna screw?"