black leather gloves

black skirt and black high heels
a hard rock sidewalk
with angry tire squeals
muffling the way you talk
crossing the busy street
wearing black leather gloves
for the hungry men you meet

the memory of broken loves
with you hustling late at night
past papers tossed by heedless wind
and hopes of sweet delight
your hair unwashed, unpinned
a fancy collar by your ears
you walk with secret fears.

you take all the chances
there's no one by your side
no one to give you romances
everyone you trusted has lied
you've thrown yourself away
there's no tear falling just for you
no one can touch you without pay
will any dream come true?

by three in the morning you're tired
nursing a new black eye
but it's not like you were hired
to be baking grandma's apple pie
it's a rough world and you're the man
in a city full of rock n'roll
playing songs from Roy Orbison's band
finding your head and losing your soul

today i heard you'll find yourself
asking hustlers for a clue
as though it could be found on a closet shelf
worn like a favorite shoe