Waiting for the Punchline © 2005 Siuan McGahan

I'm at a party, glass of wine in my hand 
I'm here half-hearted, don't know where to sit, stay or stand 
I'm plotting my departure, scheming as fast as I can 
Its going nowhere, suddenly I see this man

glass of gin, stupid grin, coming over 
his hand, he extends, I look over my shoulder 
there's no one else, just myself, he's approaching 
on my space and escape, he's encroaching

Loose lips sink ships, or just my hopes for a good time 
what you're lacking in the brain, you make up for with spine 
you're so verbose, there's no where to go, just a field of social landmines 
you've been talking all this time and I'm still waiting, waiting for the punchline

You're bowled over, by every hook, every line 
that you utter in some random storyline, 
that's going nowhere, but taking too much time 
and the way you gesture, its like a frickin pantomine

that you're in, stupid grin, like you're interesting 
and what you say in everyway is just the best thing 
that I've heard every word is just depressing 
when your words and the absurd are coalescing

Loose lips sink ships, or just my hopes for a good time 
what you're lacking in the brain, you make up for with spine 
you're so verbose, there's no where to go, just a field of social landmines 
you've been talking all this time and I'm still waiting, waiting for the punchline

a word to the wise is lost on your kind 
I close my eyes, but only to find 
that you're out of sight, but not out of mind