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She's fashionably obscene
Hanging on your arm
Like an art deco prop
All right angles and gold lamé
Her words are black pepper
A sting on the tip of the tongue
Unpleasant but addictive
It doesn't matter what's she's saying
You can't hear over the curve of her neck
It's IV morphine
When you're dying slowly
She's only ever graced you with a sneer
You're onto her game
But you can't stop playing
She's fine here in the dark
Swaying to music of her choosing
But when the lights come on
And you can see the veins of humanity
Pulsing beneath her skin
She's gonna be gone
Without a wave
Looking for a faker love
The safer love
Because her heart is out of bounds