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Mollys Yes
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Girlfriend
She runs the figures
For the last time
Her vodka tonic
Sweats with mayhem
And she's dreamily humming
A song I'll not likely forget
She looks like as if she stepped from a magazine
The kind with black and white pictures
Of underfed girls
And even though she smells
Of garlic and cigarettes
She's the most beutiful thing in the world
And when she goes home, who does she go to?
Does a lover wait up, or just a TV?
And when she goes home, whose arms does she cling to?
Is he as happy to see her
As I would be? (hey hey)
She sits at the bar at closing time
As the last drunk pats himself for his keys
And the lights go up, and the lights go up
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And a weary smile appears
In unguarded moments like these
And when she goes home, who does she go to?
Does a lover wait up, or just a TV?
And when she goes home, whose arms does she cling to?
Is he as happy to see her
As I would be?
Close my eyes and pretend (she's my girlfriend)
That she's my girlfriend (she's my girlfriend)
I can't seem to think of nothin' else (she's my girlfriend)
But I've got to keep the nonsense to myself, myself, myself
And when she goes home, who does she go to?
Does a lover wait up, or just a TV?
And when she goes home, whose arms does she cling to?
Is he as happy to see her
Is he happy to see her?
Is he happy to see her?
Is he happy to see her?
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