Face Down. Ft. The Realist
*To Start Of, Sureals Protege, The Realist*
The waitress keep my java cup filled, her company this evening
When I talk she hangs on my words, hooked on my breathing
Nothing like coffee and a beautiful girl to finish a long work day
We finish off the third tray, ride home is late she ask can I stay
Cute blond twenty four and single, waitress to pay for her career
Grew up ugly, braces and pimples, bachelors in two more years
After midnight we stroll to my vehicle, she asks about the horses
She enjoys the leather interior, after all they are stock on Porsches
The conversation drifted to sex, accidentally brush against her thigh
Subtle was useless, the red light was her excuse to kiss as a reply
Pull into her homes garage, we can't keep our hands to ourselves
Both our clothes litter the floor her body is the softest I ever felt
Eventually her apprehension was evident, I minded my own business
Tears told me she didn't want to continue, her first time she did this
In my mind I admit to my perverted hobby, I heard the siren sounds
Rearview reflects to me the one woman I could never face down
*Time To Get Sureal*
Flip Opposite Style, Yet Still Turned Away.
Brain Storms Wild, When Skies Turn To Rain.
Face The World, Always Turn One Blind Eye.
Why Cry, Trip Over Tangles Of Your Own Lies.
Start Throwing Darts, To Pop Life's Purpose.
Not Missing Parts, Are You Getting Nervous?
Always Watch Your Back, Head Up, Face Down.
Never Flip The Trax, Straight Up, Disgraced Now?
