Blood Roses

Blood Roses

Back on the street now

can't forget the things you never said

on days like these gets me thinking

when chickens get a taste of your meat

chickens get a taste of your meat



you gave him your blood

and your warm little diamond

he likes killing you after you're dead

you think I'm a queer

I think you're a queer

I think you're a queer

Said I think you're a queer

and I shaved every place where you been



God knows I know I've thrown away those graces



the Belle of New Orleans tried to show me

once how to tango

wrapped around your feet

wrapped around like good little roses



Blood Roses

Blood Roses

back on the street now

now you've cut out the flute

from the throat of the loon

at least when you cry now

he can't even hear you

when chickens get a taste of your meat

when he sucks you deep

sometimes you're nothing but meat