The burlesque show.

A stripper dancing on tables
In the last chance salon
People drinking to remember
I’ll forget them pretty soon
Heard the one about God walking into a bar
All he came in was for a drink of water
Now he’s confronted by fallen stars


I sit here surrounded by the faithless
No faith even in themselves
The smell of cheap perfume wafting
Smoke rises in plumes
The heady intoxication
These broken dreams won’t fix themselves


They trade in their boyfriends
Like food on supermarket shelves
I sit and listen to her life story
A tale of so full of woe

What Would Dickens think if he could                                                                                                                                                                             see this place for himself.