Running Around Loose

I feel so free
to act on impulse
whether right or wrong.

My beau is in jail
for who knows what
and I've been running around loose.

I sit in an ice cream parlor,
and there's a man standing there.
Older, tall and strong,
who could break me in two
if he wanted to.
He saw my eyes drift downwards
and that afternoon saw us
in the parlor's bathroom.

My car ran out of gasoline
and a boy came along, around eighteen.
Scrawny body he had
with blue eyes
speaking of innocence and virginity.
It was on a lonely road
and he took me
on the hood of the car.

Come the night
I was so bored and ran into a troublemaker.
The type your mother
tells you to stay away from.
We strolled along in the park
the night had lowered it's darkness
and I lowered my head
on this man I had met.

I felt so free
to act on impulse
whether right or wrong.

My beau was in jail
I told him I was good
and that, no, I hadn't been running around loose.