Shame on you and your broken wing

Cigarette smile, anorexic moon, friendless heart, and a box of cheap thrills
Getting off on a dream that ceases nigh
Stuck somewhere where everyone stays dry
While I dive into your shallow, watery eyes

Borderline plastic
Sticky sour tounge
Tastes like yesterday’s brothel graveyard
Sitting on my mothers tombstone of history
Making calls to men who will always forget me
Heart attack strikes, but I’m still weaping
Still stuck as a ghost of dicks and weed