You came with a woman. Her short hair sticks out free.
–Walked in with a woman whose short hair sticks out free.
I look at her lips and think she might be me.

Around her big eyes the creases curve up slow,
those lovely eyes with creases curving slow.
Long dress slips ‘bove my knee, then low.

Take her to the dance floor or over to the bar.
Sway her towards the dance floor then over to the bar.
I’ll sing the blues this evening and wish I was the star.

Oh, just pay the lonely bar keep, then be on your way.
Pay the poor man now and be on your way.
I’ll be shooting it till six–we all have dues to pay.

Now put you hand on her hip. It’s your turn to follow.
Don’t worry ’bout me; I’ll be here tomorrow.