Who are you - oh Lady of the Whisky Sours?
Eye's hiding the truth.
Smile the muse which lured him to take your photo.
Collection of lovers.
You'd never pay for a drink.
Keep the barkeep happy.
Who are you - oh Lady of the 10 oz Old Style pulls?
Lady of the Camel Lights.
Hair that glistens and draws in the union guys.
Tractors by day and the fancied lover by night.
The siren sound. The laugh. And then... The occasional kiss.
The constant come-home-with-me coat. Never removed.
Offer you a light. Oh lady of the lovelies.
My car is warm. I've got a bottle at home.
Make a pass. Be gone. Oh you.
Lady of the eternal warm bar stool.
Let me remove you now from your throne.
[Found photo of woman at the bar (our family establishment) in an industrial mid-western town.]