Ivonne

Through the gray sky, I finally spotted you
ten martinis in your system and another one to order
spilled drinks and your profile in sight.

Don’t be poetic, please
look me in the eye, don’t stare at the rum
hop in the car, let’s head to Avignon.

Tell me your name
tell me your name
I go by Ivonne.

Don’t be poetic, please
look me in the eye, don’t stare at the rum
hop in the car, let’s head to Avignon.

Tell me your name
tell me your name
I’m called Ivonne.