Your speech slurs as you open up
The door of your 4 star hotel room
Poor balance nearly betrays you
I ask you if you need help
The lights appear in your eyes
Gratitude, someone cares

You are the queen on the night
Your clothes betray you
But not because you look cheap
Only because you feel cheap
Entertainer of "some sort"
Sweet, smiling Sue

What keeps that smile on you?
Is it the Cava you start your day with?
Your virtue scattered all over your room
In the shape of golden euro cents
Ashes and empty packs on the floor
How many did you have today
How many men?

Ironically, yet in no way surprisingly
There is laughter in this room
Lust and love
Love for the money
Love of the cylindrical shape you ride
... And vast loneliness.

Do you have friends to talk to?
Or do they run away
From the rythmical slurs
That leave your perfect lips
You are not broken over your job
Just a lonely girl
About my age...
Too young to be so lost

What gave, girl?
What gave?