A sultry, wicked femme fatale with blotchy skin all pale and sweet,
A sickly facial glow with holes and gaps dotted along her
rotten teeth
Hair drawn up high pulling back her face, her arms reach out to grab for me
Growling and panting, dribbling and
stumbling, murmuring incoherently
Evoking the demonic crux of life
Calling forth in blasphemous tongues
The hungers returned
for the spirit that races
Through her mind, her vains, her lungs
With an evil cackle that cuts the air like an E.coli infected
rust knife
She gropes and searches with filthy hands where weeping sores and scabs are rife
I look into her bloodshot eyes and take
her in my shaking arms
Her language is foul, her breath even worse, never could resist her filthy charms
My backdoor
crack-whore
Gives me lovin when Im feeling down
My backdoor crack-whore
I gave her some white, she offered me the
brown
Left me sore and feeling sick, as we lay together in our own filth
She gave it up, I took her high, she flfet me itching,
wanting to die
A shadow of my former self, now weak, confused and in poor health
Ridden with disease and junkified, spreading the
plague rotting out my insides