A sultry, wicked femme fatale with blotchy skin all pale and sweet, A sickly facial glow with holes and gaps dotted along her rotten teeth Hair drawn up high pulling back her face, her arms reach out to grab for me Growling and panting, dribbling and stumbling, murmuring incoherently Evoking the demonic crux of life Calling forth in blasphemous tongues The hunger's returned for the spirit that race's Through her mind, her vains, her lungs With an evil cackle that cuts the air like an E.coli infected rust knife She gropes and searches with filthy hands where weeping sores and scabs are rife I look into her bloodshot eyes and take her in my shaking arms Her language is foul, her breath even worse, never could resist her filthy charms My backdoor crack-whore Gives me lovin' when I'm feeling down My backdoor crack-whore I gave her some white, she offered me the brown Left me sore and feeling sick, as we lay together in our own filth She gave it up, I took her high, she flfet me itching, wanting to die A shadow of my former self, now weak, confused and in poor health Ridden with disease and junkified, spreading the plague rotting out my insides