she stared at me, devoid of emotion, i wondered if she heard me...
then she said that no one loves her, sins bound to her filthy dirty...
she remembers how her mother held her close, warm against her chest...
now that baby lies cold in bed, while strangers nibble on her breast...
i told her, that this book i hold so dear can be her salvation and hope...
and she told me that was a joke, she found freedom in a length of rope...
she said one day she would tie it around her neck and jump off a bridge...
if not her neck broke, she will then choke, thats simply how it is...
drugging up in alleyways, selling lust for money, innocence is weak...
shes independent, umpimped, so it is she thats hustling the streets...
but i told her that theres a god who cares, that she has a choice...
now she stares at me, anger in her eyes, i hear a tremble in her voice...
shes already dying, the drugged up sex takes her mind off of her pains...
"can god cure this nasty disease thats poisoned the blood in my veins?"...

-dark alley church-