To the brown skin girl with the milk and honey thighs
With the rips in her tights
And the fear in her eyes
With the low cut top
With the push up bra
And the bruised neck
With the tired arms
With the short skirt
With the five inch heels
And the pills in her drink
Too tired to think
Too scared to sleep
She was a victim of her own beauty

Because in his eyes
She was a slave
And he slave master
And one way or another she would bow before him
He dissected her with his eyes
Cutting away her say in the matter
She was his
Or so he was taught
Just a man being a man
The vicious cycle starts over again