Jukebox is playing Sam Cooke.
Bartender is yelling at my girlfriend.
Empty bottles, peanut shells.
We tell the world to go to hell.
Happy moments are nothing to sneeze at.
Even in my chaotic dumb dreams.
So it seems the evening ends.
We go home to the other side of town and make out.
Tomorrow she is going to grad school.
And I am going to a bookstore to be a fool.
For a fraction of the price.
I am getting the same education.
She says her people need the diploma.
Makes fun of me for being a white male.
Then kisses me goodnight just right.
I fall asleep to a shitty sitcom.