WHORES OF THE U.S.A.

With soulless eyes and care less hearts they fuck without emotion
With promises, propositions, and false dreams for the future
They prey upon the needy and the hopeful

Through bondage and domination words become the whips and chains
Used to empty the pockets of men and women seeking satisfaction
Not caring about the families destroyed by their deceitful acts and misleading propaganda
Looking only to gather power from the souls they devour and line their pockets with money
Gathered from the blood, sweat, and tears, of the greedy
Fabricating fantasies to ease the fear, instinctively knowing what they want to hear

They sell themselves to the highest bidder
Giving away blowjobs to keep the minds of their meal tickets
Unaware and clouded in a false euphoria
They ass fuck the weak who are afraid to speak
And finger the petty til the juices begin to flow
Then back away until again they beg to pay

These are the whores of the U.S of A

IN A VALLEY CALLED DEATH

As she walks among the shadows of a valley called death

She secretly longs to take her last breath

So tired of hearing religious men preach,

“Believe in our God, trust what we teach!”

So she reaches out to lonely men who worship her pleasures

with praises of, “Oh God!” as they lay.

She’s found a religion of service for pay.

As she sucks dry their souls she feeds her power,

Momentary satisfaction, getting paid by the hour

They don’t ask for much, just her time for a day

Leaving their money when they go on their way

She satisfies their lust and desires,

Then sends them home to their wives,

Where they feel no guilt over living as liars

So called “good Christian” parishioners call her a whore,

Citing Gods loving forgiveness, as they sneer then slam their doors.

All of them lending their hands to her hurt and her pain

Nobody bothering to ask from where it came

Inside her cold stare and empty glare

There’s a story of a “good Christian” woman who once lived there.

Night after night, day after day

Parishioners come and reward her with pay

Then one lonely day her silent wish comes true,

She draws her last breath

Succumbing to death

Nobody comes, nobody mourns

She’s known only as, the woman who loved an angel with horns.

The men who once came pretend she never existed

When they give their confessions she’s not even listed

Now, she’s a shadow in the valley called death,

Waiting for the next whore who takes her last breath.