She’s wearing the polka-dot dress tonight. Waves of Guinness splash over the brim of her glass and soak into my shoes but I don’t give a damn. She can shatter that pint over my head and I wouldn’t mind a bit. Just as long as I hear that laugh. Thin Lizzy comes over the speakers and I tremble because I know what happens next.
She’ll run outside to the middle of the empty street. She’ll dance in the moonlight, as her red heels click on the cobblestones. After I pluck the shards from my hair, I’ll ask to join her.
She’ll run outside to the middle of the empty street. She’ll dance in the moonlight, as her red heels click on the cobblestones. After I pluck the shards from my hair, I’ll ask to join her.
