she bore the mark we all bore the mark the crown of sorrow the sum of the beast for we were marked for toil and bloodshed the stolen children of babylon grafting in darkness for five bucks an
hour
she was a back alley goddess turning tricks since she was twelve but
all her scars and pox riddled
body could not conceal the beauty within she
was marked for exploitation a
plaything for corrupted souls
I turned to her in my hour of solace free of charge no strings combined she was the sun and its unholy laughter they stoned her to death with a needle and spoon I begged her to stay she begged me to go
there’s no escaping this concrete accretion this city is built on murder and greed it’s foundations are carved in bondage and suffering so turn to me now you children of babylon demons in limousines are baying for your souls
hear my voice @ 'Dagger'
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