For the first time in weeks I decided to give it a shot at going out to a Club again with the Boys. The usual, The Cure, The Strokes, Youth of America; Wipers. I wasn`t really looking to get hammered. All chicks were obviously on other wavelength. I checked out your smirk behind the bar, and while you carried those useless bricks full of beers that we like so much, I stole a quick kiss from your lips. Oh my God, what had I committed, I kissed the most unreachable and hot bartender in the club. I stole a few more kisses. You could`t do nothing, you had cases of beers in hand, and comfy snickers. All-Stars for sure. Room on Fire was playing, and I did something more than steal 2 or 3 quick kisses. Must had been all the alcohol and the loud dirty rock n` roll. And your moves and looks. Did you noticed? (stupid question). Me tall guy with old jeans, you, kissed girl behind the bar. Now I feel ashamed to get back to the bar, because I know I have to do the same, or do something greater, better, more fiery. Help me out Boys.