Sitting on front steps
Smoking
Waiting for local boys
Racing down the Main Street
They smile with those sly lips
Pants hugging birthing hips
Tempting fate to change them
From shy innocence
To carnal experts
There is nothing else here
But sex and cigarettes
And the little boys in their shiny cars
Making love to their Vaseline jars
With wispy beards and nervous hands
Fumbling with boredom and the worm
Between their legs
Locked in this tiny town cage
Never dreaming of escape
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