She sits on the streetside
dimly lit lamplights
cold nights and foggy skies
cars pass quickly
sudden others slow
drawn upon her fishnets
offers her a smoke
"looking for a good time?"
she doesn't wanna be here
she needs the cash
her baby
her addiction
never had a mother
she wouldn't want
her child
to be the same
baby with no father
her mother is to blame
opened the door
foot to the floor
nearest motel
get the keys
and Korbel
fifty dollars
fifty shades
of bruises
"wanna fly?"
she shouldn't
but it'll
make the night
go by
needles
hurt
like her heart
her body
said bye
back on
the streets again
same thing each night
then back to her baby
long sleeve shirts
hides her pain
hides her addiction
hides her profession
rent is late again
preschool money due
gotta pay up front
whats more important
beau