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9 O'Clock
Underneath the table
Her warm hands were rubbing my thighs
The bar was stale with old-age smoke

The red-light candle was burning
In front of my face, ill
There was a beat on the system

Underground a train would rumble by
Ladies flirting at the table top
Minds wondering and smiles exchanged

All I could focus on
All I could dream about
And get lost in
Was your eyes

Put the thick dust away
The sounds, the noises, the bull
I see you through the curtain of iron
The blinds of war

Its you Ičve been searching for
Ive been waiting for
For the look in your eyes
And warmth of your touch

Underneath the table
The air is no longer stale
Im holding your hand

Can you feel the warmth?
The kindness?
The realism?

Nothing bad today
Nothing ill
Nothing wrong

Just our eyes locking
Just ourselves getting lost
In the minds and warmth of eachother

Forget about the tonic-stained wooden floor
The cast-iron ceiling and dimly lit yellow lights
Forget about the juke box playing songs of the like
The coasters holding up the drunks and beauties

Forget about the dirty bathroom and overlflowed toilet
The beer labels stuck on walls and youngsters believing
Forget about the fried potatos and beefcake bouncer
The pushed breasted bar tender and slick stud of yonder

Right now the moment is for us
All of us
Every part of our hearts
As we share and intertwine our flame
At 9 O'Clock

© 2000 David Greg Harth @ 296 New York City @ 296 New York City