The whore's whirl past as I look with my eye
covered in a patch all I can see is a lie
I lie to hurt, I lie to feel, I lie to think I'm real
It all ends up as a false rendition putting hearts to deposition
Who am I to judge the woman of shame
I'm a whore myself without the fame
I lie and I take whatever I can
I want my body touched by a man
I need the caress and caring hand
he hates me, he hurts me, my heart disbands
I justify and lie, turn the mirror
I am not being used, I am no whore.
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