Who made YOU then, the dirty girl?
Out all night fucking strangers with black eyes
Took doe-faced boys to bed out of boredom
As they released in her opaque muscle, she sang
The hunger of her emaciated veins for feeling
Faking is easy
What happens when it’s real?
You’re a blowhard with no idea
As you climb the pile, forgetting what I taught you
Don’t presume to know
Women are devils with detail
Grabbing my hair, pulling back my throat
I can tell you what you sounded like, coming in my mouth
Ten years from now
Stand in the room, you didn’t quite lay me down in
Torn clothes, confetti, summer storm, sin
Funny how pain can be an aprodisiac
Smoke enough, you won’t mind if you tear me in half
Said the pack of cards uncut on the metal table
And the low slung light swinging like a braless woman
Her lipstick on your stomach in bites of two
Is that why you keep coming back for more?
She opened herself to the sound and the fury
Her belly a gambling house full of whiskey and low-eyed men
A gutteral roar of thrusting, rutting moments
Miniaturized to fit
The gerth of her wickedness
She only wanted to be
Every bad thing
Never forgotten
Wear her til you spend your last penny
Rub her between your fingers for luck
She’ll burn your mouth if you try to kiss her
She’s just a drunken tattoo, nearing quitting time