The Smell Of Outdoor Cooking
I take in the smoke from the barbecue
I swallow my own cheap booze
I try not to look at your legs
As little boys play in big girl's shoes
I play their games and take them walks
I make jokes about feeling clucky
And I make myself drunken dreams
But first I'd have to get lucky
I know it didn't mean a thing
I just pretended it's a joke
I say I saw you topless but I keep quiet
About that business with the poke
The smell of outdoor cooking
The bevy's gone to my head
Please don't bend over like that
It makes me wonder what we'd be like in bed
Get your fingers out, my friend
Did you think the same as me?
As we stood there in the kitchen
We were talking about having kids
And as usual I did my bit of bitching
You know that I don't want a girlfriend
I just wanted someone to fuck
Just someone to pass the time with
When it's coming up for the chuck
Keep your fingers out, my friend