It's cold where I am now. The men come by the barrel it feels but it's more than a feeling. They're twenty seven to one. They're all garbage. Their chests hollowed into their wallets.

It's nice to be treated like a princess for months on end. I've got a sort-of lover for 7 days a week but I need 8.

I think I maybe found the guy who wants it eight days a week like I do...... And I need to give my head a shake. [im still running from you. Won't you ever let me go? i can't tell you where I was last night or where I'll be tomorrow. You still don't care. You say I'm for you. But I'm not. I'm not.]