Sista got serious gold dukie braids
kind that was the shit
back in '85
seldom walks with her head up, but
in passing I've discovered
she'd be pretty
if she thought she was

I don't know her name

She's the trash girl
sole female entity of the
5 o'clock clean up crew
consistently ready to disinfect 
vacuum and sanitize
while her colleagues loiter
in supply rooms
smokin' weed

I 'aint never seen her smile

Doesn't hear when I say hello
her walkman volume is always 
up too high; besides
she's got a look that dismisses me as
just anotha nylon-and-heels-wearin' heifer
who thinks she's the shit because
she got her own office
business cards
and a phone

I know the look
seen it before

One night I heard her cryin'
into the pay phone down the hall
'bout how tired tired tired she was
of doin' everything for everybody
how she just couldn't find
the right man to love her 
how the kids were makin' her crazy 
how she don't hardly have nothin'
left over for herself 
how she thought life was gonna be 
so much more than this

Since then
I toss my own trash
long before she arrives

it's just my way of sayin'

sista me and you the same:

I just got a day job