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In a hot and dingy tavern against the wall she waits Using gestures and her body to lure the men she baits She wears a red leather dress skin tight clinging to her form Golden glitter spells out a word it says her name is Storm High heels and hoop earrings makeup applied to thick Hiding her age and wrinkles multiplying now too quick Her hair once a silky blonde bleached and turned to straw Smiling she searches for a face the lucky winner of this draw She is a lady of the evening here to please her paying date She asks for only fifty dollars the price of her going rate She never leaves the bar alone always there are those with needs She grabs his hand and leads him for on desperation is what she feeds.
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