For the third time the waiter tries to force me from my chair
The party was over at least half an hour ago,
but it still echoes in my head

I smoke one last cigarette facing the shocking resemblance between me and the ashtray full of cigarette ends

Friends are all gone
the nice and the mean ones
I didn’t notice the departure of those I haven’t categorized yet

The most generous insisted on paying the bill
the meanest left stealthily
grabbing the arm of the one I flirted with throughout the evening

The waiter cleans the floor while I watch the motion of the broom
It's just one of those bars
closing doors in your face, man . . . 
Get lost, you upset ashtray!