Urban Girl

My urban girlfriend lives down the hall from me
She’s got pictures on her wall of Dylan and Presley
She wears them black slacks, tennis shoes, and shirts without the sleeves
Though she smokes them long cigarettes, I’ve seen her do it frequently
Lie lie, ya da dye, etc
My suburban parents drink coffee and ice tea
Depending on the season and the convenience of the locality
My father’s Sundays are spent with football on TV
Though my mother’s Mondays seem to happen constantly
Lie lie, ya da dye, etc
Sometimes I find myself thinking about her security
Sitting on a porch somewhere smoking a cigarette in a cloud of humility
Oh how I wish I could come to the end of this living trilogy
But those urban chains keep right on pulling me, pulling me, pulling me
Lie lie, ya da dye, etc