Who's the slut now?
Who's the Mother of the World?
Whoring herself for the needs of her children
who rape her for all she can give
and then for all that she can't
She's dying inside
but she'll never let it show.
She walks the street at night
pools of streetlamps at her feet
Looking for a good time?
She degrades herself in a walking death
her funeral dirge plays
in every moaning voice
and rocking bed
Displacement
is her life
She is far away above the clouds
Money's on the dresser, love
and the deed is done
Another day, another dollar
and a day
and a day
and a day
They move on in a never-ending cycle
Until she finally recieves
the sweet release
of blissful
darkness
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