(Dark Version)

Written by: Barry P. Foley
© 06 July 2009

It was a slow Tuesday night, so at two I closed the bar
As I locked the back door, I saw her sitting on the hood of my  car
Drinking wine from a paper bag, like she had something to  hide
 Barely looked up at me, when I offered a  ride

When I asked where she was going, she just turned her head
So I drove to an all night diner, for a coffee instead
She started asking little questions, once the coffee came
About where I was from, things I’d done and what was my name

But when the  tables turned, she  started acting  strange
 Changing the subject, never  revealing her  name
I judged  her to be 17, but,  it’s hard to  say
My  bartender’s guess, told  me she’s a runaway

Then I put it to her straight, where would she sleep tonight
Again she avoided the question, proving my guess was right
Told her sleep on my couch, somewhere warm and safe
Against my better judgment, we left the diner for my place

2nd Bridge
I was awoken around five, cold steel pressed against my  head
She was standing over me with the 38 that I kept by my  bed
Said I’ve waited 16 years for this chance, as she pulled the hammer back
Thanks for the coffee, you son of a bitch, Goodbye  Dad
Thanks for the coffee, you son of a bitch..Goodbye  Dad