Scarlett Johansen, wear that red dress, let me see your decolletage. We'll ride a gold coloured limousine, drink champagne out of crystal glasses--laugh, giggle, flirt, play coital games, call the driver James. Chauffeur, to the white cloth restaurants, to the clubs where men converse and heads turn, where the music plays: "Tortelli's with a movie starlet, the beautiful Scarlett."
Night's come along, back to my apartment we listen to Spanish song. We drink champagne in crystal glasses, inhibitions fall to bedroom passes. Close the door, a lost fantasy lies, to the morning's truth I say:"Tortelli again with his movie starlet, this time Scarlett."
I Wish I'd Written This
6 hours ago