She gets around

She'll stop at the coffee shop before it closes  
to watch the guys work and hope one notices.
She'll visit the diner and sit on a stool    
to talk to the waiters and tell them they're cool.  
She'll take walks at the park, music blaring,  
singing along just to catch the boys staring.    
She talks to strangers, don't tell her mother;  
She flirts at the world, announcing her number.  
 
She's been stringing a web; look what's caught:  
Eight dozen guys all stuck in a knot.
Their eyes fixed on her, her eyes on the mess--  
She's overwhelmed with too much to digest.
They'll call her a gluttonous, lustful slut;
Stomachaches, and lonely pains,
But still  
nothing will fill her up