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Tuesday, 5 October 2010

A Beautiful Whore



empty hand on empty hand your empty eyes are sullen, glazed and grey
broken heart on broken heart, a promise lying broken in its grave
hearts lying broken in the chests of every man you made
and every one woke up alone wishing you had stayed

no money for the heating bill and your bedroom gets real cold
a boxful of bruises drenched in tears from all the hearts you stole
scars on the insides of men from all the lies you told
asking me for money once again, but i'm so broke

a beautiful whore put on this earth
to take this desperate man for everything he's worth
so why does he come 'round
when he could just desert?
it's nothing more than he deserves

quiet steps down quiet roads these quiet streets don't offer up much change
a party-piece at someone else's party, at least everybody came
you must have put yourself somewhere else, i could see it on your face
asking them all for their money but no one's got that kind of change

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