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Lounge (Closing Time) - 4

He don't remember, how it got there

It had a number, written on his forearm

It spelled disasterHe entered the club scene

All hoping, all hoping for dancing

He was looking, and looking stunning

His clothes reflected light, all right

She sat, she sat in the backseat

The car was plush but had no heat

And no not no one was blushing

Their technique was so damn rightAll right, and

He read the note in the black light

He thought he read minds and was not right

That line still made him seem charming

His clothes were shining, shining

Songwriters

BROCK, ISAAC / JUDY, ERIC / GREEN, JEREMIAHPublished by

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