Tight Black Leather

Hattie walks into the Red Rooster Bar,
Every head turns her way.
Jaws drop, eyes blink, tongues get all tied up,
Nobody knows what to say.
Married guys wishing that they were still single,
Single guys starting to drool,
Watching her walking in that tight black leather,
Anxious to offer a welcome barstool.

She doesn’t see the effect that she’s having,
Or maybe she knows.
A wink and a blink and an innocent smile
Can take her as far as she’s wanting to go.

Someday I’m hoping to work up the nerve
To go up and ask her to dance.
But I wouldn’t want her to laugh in my face,
I’d be afraid to take such a chance.
Women like Hattie are special, you know.
On that point we all can agree.
She’s crossing the room in that tight black leather,
And I hope she sits next to me.

What do I do if she bids me ‘hello’?
Will my lips find an opening line?
Will I stutter and stammer to find the right words
To say to a lady who seems so refined?
I just stay quiet as she walks on by,
Though I think she did glance my way.
She keeps walking on in that sleek tight black leather
Never knowing she just made my day.

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