Lame dame dressed in November’s cloths, running in your empty dorm.
You’re looking for someone to call you miss and fill out the husband form.
You’ve seen a lot of lonely nights and reached for a normal storm.
Dame capable to get drunk in two bottles and to kill the powder by one inhale.
You don’t want anyone touching your stash. Is that why you haven’t gotten a male?
If you get cough you will spend some time, but maybe the answer is jail.
Hal to those who regain their lives from drugs, where you have fail.
God asked me to change and I did, but your letter was lost in the mail.
How many fingers am I holding up? The answer you never nail.
Tipsy isn’t back yet she left with you. Drunk and fucked up are here waiting to sail.
They take your hand move you in front of the train and tie you to the dirty rail.
I wish you could change you but maybe I’m to late lets just tell the tale.
