Bonaduces Salt Lake City
Argue in the lobby. First things first. Your temper
tantrum is paid for. I'll get my money's worth. You say
it's not me, so I know what it's all about. You wanted me
coming along, not coming out, because I'll cramp your
style for the precious little while you need. Squinting
back at you through the chlorine in my eyes. You're
grinning in the shallow end like a Stepford Wife. A girl
asks me if I am competing, too. I say I'm with a friend
and I'm pointing right at you. I lean up on the ladder
and listen to the chatter fly by. And you could be the
last one among the throng of bodies I see. You could be
the last one, but you're content to blend seamlessly.
And, now, Angela, I'm with you like you asked me to be.
Why do we do this? I'm not stupid, I'm just lonely.
Here's the keys to the hotel. We could make decisions
there, with the lights down low, and the blinds carefully
closed. And when we get done, we will be the only ones.
Tongues wrapped tight around the reasons why. And when we
get through, there's nothing else but me and you. Groping
for the guts to say good-bye. Fold a paper boat from a
gas receipt, and set it in the drainage by my feet. I
don't even try to get in, 'cause they'll turn me away;
it's obvious to anyone alive that I'm underage. But I
wonder what you're doing that's so time consuming here.
Chorus.
