Just Out of View

A queue that wore the mark of her thumbnail Has been pulled down From off the wall Daring the billiard ball To bait its own narrow trap The young one finds the doorman quite good looking He considers me a fag Because he's the judge of "all that" He and maybe a dozen bros That have been unloved by the dads The young one goes to gather all her catcalls I'll play dead through every song That ever tried to write those wrongs That will start a talk we don't wanna have I see the mark from that little thumbnail Now she's done with me Just look at what she's done to me Out of sight without a mind Like a mess in a room you don't see Laying in the queue Just out of view