There's a cold, constant neon flicker
Filled with an odour of decline and sour liqour
Where bodies intertwine and spirits linger
I suck the blood of a left hand finger
And with it I release my self-esteem
A reason to redeem
I'm a failure - I'm unclean

There's not an action I regret
I light another cigarette

And through the smoke, I feel the scent
Of something far beyond an incident
A lecture for the trivial
Artistic, not theatrical
And she moves just like an erotic cabar�t
Leaving the l___ for both happiness and dismay
The softest lips, gold gracious fingertips

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