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Just Another Whore Down The Hall
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Poetry I'll lean against the cold concrete and smoke my cigarettes,
Not caring about anything, savoring the taste of another burn.
Lie about anything to take advantage, crush hearts with size-eight combat boots.
They're just another person crying in the bathroom with a razor in their hands.
Cold wind and rain blow but I don't feel it, taste of acidic drops on a thirsty tongue.
Fuck the world, I still don't care.
Pay your fare and take a train to nowhere with me.
Crush out my cigarette, walk out onto the sidewalk.
You're here now with everything I need.
I'll leave you standing in the rain with tears in your eyes.
Still think I care?
Sex, drugs, and image is enough to let me escape the real world.
Maybe I fuck for the pleasure, maybe I fuck for nothing.
All I ever try to do and all that I try to change,
I'm still just another whore down the hall.
