Malin skriver

Red, red nails tearing through her stocking.
It only makes you wanna keep on rocking.
Hair sticking to her forehead and covering her face.
The kind of girl you love to disgrace.
Maybe she used to be an angel with straight A's,
now she could go out wearing nothing but lace.
Stumbling out of the joint on her five inch heels,
people 'round her wondering how she feels.
Cloudy eyes and a vacant smile,
she hasn't been sober in quite a while.
Yesterday's make-up, a ton of hairspray
at a close look her skin seems gray.
Rummaging through the pockets of her black leather jacket,
with a triumphant smile she pulls out a Marlboro packet.
She hails a cab, red nails in the street lights gleam.
There she goes, the girl of your dream.


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