I'll be on the next train to Vegas

This is a little poem about how most woman don't think.
They see something they think they'd like and jump at the gun for it.
I liked how the words rhymed, and sort of talked about suicide.

From experience, I know most woman want that kind of relationship, where every date feels like the first, but then they get sick of the person.
She realizes it was a mistake, but she was the one who kicked the chair.