In a dark tavern bar sat Sawyer the lawyer
Sweaty and fevered with fear.
He saw her again; he could not avoid her
That woman who bought him that beer.
Gorgeous, she was, but he couldn’t enjoy her
For what she said made him feel faint.
She smiled and winked; she could not be coyer
But innocent?...that sir, she ain’t.
“Let me guess about you”, she whispered to Sawyer
In his ear with the beer losing head
“I’ll look at your hand and I’ll know your employer…
…your passions, your secrets and dreads”
And she did, to his shock, so “please stop” he implored her
It scared him that she read his mind
Down to the obsession with Jessica Moir
The blonde in the cubicle behind
So he bolted and ran, this Sawyer the lawyer
Hiding in alleys, phone booths
Trying to see his thoughts seconds before her
Running from nothing but truth
It’s futile, she laughs, and he sees her big goiter
You cannot escape what you are
Not even with a guided missile destroyer
And a friendly and well-stocked bar