In this cafe there are none of them
only us.
She, who sits with a wine glass reading
I with my pen
My companion looks on as her gin dances in its glass
Take a closer look and you'll see
there is a difference between us here and them there
I lied to you
Well sort of a lie
this place has made me dishonest
I said I would share no drink with you
in a bar
This is no bar like those..
A special place deserves more than our rules.
As we transcend the base
So must our places dance past a base form.
You, my Adler, my 'the woman,'
So few should sit here
and feel as we feel
This place knows its kind.