Babs and Sheila motor mouth
Jumped on the fourteen bus
Sweater laces cinched up tight
A couple sizes plus

Sheila blows a cell phone gale
And massacres her gum
Babs just needs to get downtown
And start a nightclub run

Now Kyle and Jimmy ain't so bright
They drink at 'Ace of Spades'
Kyle, he's got the boots on tight
And Jimmy packs a blade

Every bouncer knows the boys
They bring in half the work
And every east side cop would love
To give their chains a jerk

'Good evenin' ladies', Kyle says
Or something just as lame
Knocking ivory balls about
The girls joined in the game

Babs likes independent boys
Of non-apparent means
Plus she noticed straight away
How Kyle filled his jeans

Jimmy doesn't say too much
He likes to keep it cool
Sheila figures Jim's OK
But no one she would do

Kyle and Babs are glassy eyed
Before the eight ball's sunk
They were chest to chest by closing time
Both off-the-meter drunk

Sheila talks incessantly
In Jimmy's empty face
They stumble through the parking lot
And head to Kyle's place

Simple male reckoning
Says Sheila goes with Jim
After all it's only fair
Jim gets a little trim

Now Sheila isn't quite so drunk
To flat out misbehave
Plus she knows what Jimmy is
Not gentleman, but knave

Now alarm bells come unstuck
Code yellow turns to red
Sheila Plans to spend this night
Alone in her own bed

Well that's the kind of dreary news
Our Jimmy hates to hear
He hatches up a different plan
Then cracks a couple beer

'Just this last one' Sheila says,
'Then walk me to the station'
Jimmy gets testosterone
Mad dog inclination

Jimmy ran free for thirty hours
They grabbed him on the street
The last time that we saw him
He had chains around his feet

Sentenced twenty-five to life
That's what the courtroom read
'Christ, that woman talked too much'
That's all that Jimmy said

Copyright © 2009
Composer: Stanton Purcell
Producer: Bruce Valentine