She laid her head
On his comfortable bed,
And did tell
Of a stairwell
And a man, who never paid.

She stayed
For a while,
And made him smile,
As they drank champagne,
Her head
On his comfortable bed.

There was no pain,
For he was not of that kind.
Though, in her mind
It may have seemed the same.

Maybe he will see her again,
And there will be champagne
Or red, or white wine.
He paid, so its fine.
Of a stairwell she did tell.
He hopes it was not the same.