A hooker's bath isn't a luxury
Just a quick soapy splash
Sometimes a hurried sponge rub
Before a blink, over in a flash
Both holes, pits, and teeth
In a jiffy, burning deodorant
Slap on makeup, garish dust
Ready and looking brilliant
What you can't doll up
Bruises in your mind
They stick like velcro pins
The type, extremely unkind
Can't lose her dark circles
She tried all the under-eye creams
Forgot what's a day like
Forgot all her childhood dreams
After bath, she pastes her plastic smile
Circle of men closing in
She'll need another bath in a few minutes
Raspy words, tongue and pasty grin
