Walking down the street I’ve met a man
Wearing a suit I didn’t understand
(why)He asked for things I’ve never heard before
He offered money to trample on
To step on his face and on his chest
To wipe my feet in his fancy new vest
First I was shocked, almost terrified
But the sweet taste of money slowly changed my mind
We’re all whores, there’s no difference
Mirror is on the wall
We’re all wolves, there’s no difference
Just let us carry on
Shoe against skin, face is in the mud
Fancy new vest is ripping apart
Sensual moaning, he’s turned on
Erotical gasping, oh Dear Mum
I tried to erase it from my memory
But sooner or later I will need money
What can I say, I take the blame
I need to find him to do it again
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