I guess her beauty looks around.
On the streets of men who buy pints for a pound.
I wonder if her soul it thinks
Perfections come to the ugly brink


Her smile dances up and down this street
And her footsteps heel the cracks in the concrete
Her arms are crossed and worried look her brows
As across the road play aggressive drunken rows


I think I like the way that she looks at me
That while I’m close by she’s not far from safety
And I could sit and watch this girl for hours
Wince from the taste of our apple sours


Steady are the eyes of men who sit & watch her walk
Staring at there unknowing prey like a randy red tailed hawk
She has got away from them but I have been left caught
For she got me forever from the moment that she talked …