The Life and Death of Sabrina

Sabrina the go-go dancer, swinging it at the Kit Kat Club,
Friday night in lonely dressing room, she was ready for to blub,
In her Chevy in the car park, hung a sign: Hollywood or Bust,
And yet she’s stripping at the Kit Kat, while her dreams turn into dust,

Twizzle-tassles fall like autumn, leaves of silver, auburn, gold,
Fat Boy Louis counts the takings, counting up the tickets sold,
Oh Sabrina, fling your g-string, o’er the heads and to my arms,
I will take you from this madness if you give me all your charms!

But she turns to face her audience as last garments hit the floor,
Soaking up the cheers of pleasure, applause that whispers, Je t’adore!
In her eyes the barflies chatter was the whirr of cameramen,
Drunken shouts a top director, calling out, Do that again!

Hollywood, Wisconsin bar room, hayseed hicks the Warner Brothers,
Sabrina’s only one of many, many many many others.
Then the neon flicks to closing, darkness reigns upon the bar,
And in the lot two golden headlights illuminate a chrome-clad car,
You Sabrina?  Big time calling. Please be seated, if you will,
Louis sobs as Sabrina drives off. I'm ready now, Mister De Mille!

Copyright © Max Scratchmann. All Rights Reserved