She blew smoke from her lips,
Took a sip of her wine.
Said flatly, "put the money on the table", as he walked toward her.
And all though the cigarettes and the ***** and the *** and the money were all evident tonight,
Not a thing could make her happy.
Not a thing could make her satisfied.
For she was lost, drowning in all the material things,
Waiting for a light to come and save her.