Driving Women Mad

I drive women mad,
Its not a desire of mine, though I know it happens.
I met this woman the other night, she was nice,
but I hated her stories about her cat.
She wouldn’t stop talking about her bath salt, her brand new shoes, her red dress sprinkled with daisy’s.
I told her she was ugly.

Her drink was cold and the ice cut my nose.
She walked out on me, leaving me alone with the bar lights reflecting off her empty glass.
I can’t help but think about the  money I spent on her drink that covered me and dampened my clothes.

I drive women mad.

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