She waits 'til oh-so-late for your call
Then she comes a-running
Face down in your lap so many nights
But this could be the last or only
More than a thought, less than a person
I know I'm lucky to be
Held like this whenever you want me
Sweetie, I'm your property
Eight years and you two still do this
But pleasure shoots outside time
Your fuck hovers still, above your biographies
You're turning thirty (cling to the bed, cling to the bed)
More than a thought, less than a person
I know I'm lucky to be
Held like this whenever you want me
Sweetie, I'm your property
One of your whores (I won't ask for more)
One of your whores (I won't ask for more)
One of your whores (I don't think very much of myself)
