I Won’t Impress You

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I won’t impress you
Doesn’t matter who you are
I drink cheap wine
But enjoy Cuban cigars
I won’t play that game
There’s no benefit to me
This heart is not for sale
Honest, humble & eternally free

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What Do I Do With My Words

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What do I do with my words
How do I contain when they start to leak
Like the Little Dutch Boy
Who’s listening when I start to speak
But I can’t worry about the audience
I’ve got to keep playing my own tune
The steady groover with the proper notes
When it comes to our hearts, no one is immune

Picking Up My Girl Along The Way

Picking up my girl along the way

A short enough skirt that’ll surely tease

Soft tones upon the extinguished day

Wine & song that I might forever please

Snapping fingers & popping buttons

Ample latitude that I might play her fool

Admittedly; for her touch I’m a glutton

My own words reveal me to still be uncool

My ravishing mettle giving her just cause

Subtly picking up her heels and hemline

This rakish spirit providing her pause

Exposing joy & unadulterated sunshine