In Bars

Take off your pretty blouse.
I’ll take you to the house
where simple plans and dirt
can wash away the hurt.
You say please stop the car.
But we haven’t gone that far.
You say you want to leave.
Damn you girls and cars.
My escape is in bars.
Tie up your pretty hair.
I’ve got ideas to share
where blocks and clocks of wood
have slowed down like we should.
Please don’t turn up your nose
at working people’s clothes.
You say you want to leave me.
Don’t say you want to leave me.