Just A Cashier
A ballad I wrote a few years ago.
Sunday morning, yawning aloud
Flipping through magazines
Staring down aisle number two
Rattling coins in jeans
Wearing her nametag upside down
Hair in a sloppy bun
She pointed at the camera
Trying to have some fun
Addie was nearly seventeen
Pretty but immature
Doodling on an old receipt
When Jack came through the door
Green eyes brushed passed her round dark brown
He strutted far away
Leaning over cash register
She wondered what to say Read More