Killing Floor

This chick grooves up to the bar
Silver jump suit and tangerine hair
She orders a triple scotch no ice and warm coke
The barman has more sense than to ask for the money
Some sad o guy sat at the bar already has his wallet open
She says to him
"When two cats are to few
And three are too many
What then?"
Before he can answer she is gone
She runs her hands through her hair
The killing floor beckons
The crowd move to give her space
She curls and swirls and spins
She twirls  contorts and twists
Swerves, stoops and spirals
Someone touches her and she turns around
She points her fingers like a gun and mouths Pow
The drinks come
The lights flash
The music blasts
The night wears on relentlessly
Time marches regardlessly
Then the club comes to an end and its time to leave
She takes a cab to the hotel
Some poor bastard thinks he is in luck
He pours her a drink
He stands behind her and takes her coat
He unzips her jump suit
It falls to the floor
He stares 
As inside there is no one

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