I’ll be waiting for when the night-time crowds diminish
Into glittering shadows, after the masqueraders carouse past three
Watch them dance their night and paychecks away
Pining for pandemonium, aching to ingest a riot
I’ll wait for them to be done with their beers and bar sluts
When they all crawl home, all the nighttime crowds
All the women who have done what counts as cheating now
The criminals, the career engineers, all the bipolar bad girls
Everyone between picture-perfect and neglected-nude
When they crawl home I’ll be waiting in their beds
