I saw her standing there, trying hard not to cry,
Today there's a purple shadow around her right eye,
She comes on monday afternoons and friday nights,
There's always something new to mark the new fight.
He looks more than twelve and less than fifteen,
Straight hair, fair skinned and unmistakably feminine,
Comes in a group of ten, everyday at around one,
They push him around, grab his cash and run.
Thursday nights - a tanned guy with a silver nose ring,
Broad shoulders, long hair, a cuter version of Dhoni,
Smiles like he has a personal joke that he aint sharing,
Looks right at me, blows flying kisses just before leaving.
Chinky old uncle with his 3 inches specs,
Has bout 10 strands of hair on his shiny bald head,
Something is definitely very wrong with his sight,
Punches his numbers ten times before he gets it right.
You must have visited an ATM machine,
What you don't see is the tiny camera within,
I'm the one behind the surveillence device and screen,
I know some of you a little, even though I'm unseen.