[Intro (breathy whisper, close to mic)]
You’re all out of make-believe.
Now we do it for real.
Door’s locked.
[Verse 1 (slow growl southern drawl)]
I don’t want to be Jane at the desk, I want to be your bitch
We play it out... I’m the perp and you’re the one in charge of the ditch.
Scenario one: the jail bar. I’m inside, you’re outside.
“Search me, officer...” I soak the bars, begging to ride.
You’re in your blues, belt tight. I’m in a shifty little skirt,
I want it rough, I want it hard—I want to be built up and hurt.
You grab my hair and pull me close, I’ve been waiting all week,
To feel your hands on my body, hear my corners start to creak.
I’m your prisoner now—do what you want, I’m at your divine will,
If you want me face down —I give you my ansatz, I’ll keep it still.
But we don’t only do it there. That’s just the first half of the day...
The cocainely-black ink of my soul says it’s time to come out and play.
[Chorus (layered melodic screams, hard industrial pulse)]
I’m the dirty dirty dirty girl coming to make agreements,
Trading my dignity for a little bit of skin and these basic amenities!
You can have her, have the body — even the parts you can’t see,
I’ll be your slave, I’ll be your whore, I’ll never set you free!
It’s a double-edged blade and I’m holding both ends,
Because your happiness is the only thing based on what I lend!
[Verse 2 (grooving southern cadence, breathy responses)]
And then I’m Janice from payroll — wedged in the supply closet,
I’ve got a thorough, satisfactory performance, a direct deposit.
I lapped all of you, the cops and the rogues, by making you mine,
Now I’m on my knees — yes, sir — wiping up slipper after line.
Scenario three: I’m barely dressed, hold up a piece of perfectly printed paper...
And while you’re reading it close to home, I’m down There, being a caper.
In fact, don’t read it — just lunge for it, drop your ego and pride,
The HR girl’s on her stomach, and inside the larder, she’s wide.
I drag your face to the surface, I keep you buried in me,
Until your hand’s on my throat and you’re ready to do to me what you see.
Sinking down low, I trim your belly fat, ruin your pristine ties,
I’m the bitch of the precinct, and it’s out in your arrogant eyes.
[Chorus (full thrash metal distortion, high melodic scream)]
I’m the fucked up whore, the rule, the absolute floor!
I file every sin on sheets while you’re knocking at my door!
I’m your secret system of rewards; you’re addicted to
WhateverDirty thing I’ve got under my pussy for you!
You burn — I’ll freeze — I’ll give you everything I’ve got,
Rub line after line of _illicit_ — and I _want_ it hit the spot!
[Verse 3 (absolute crawl speed, very low and sultry)]
Scenario five: The armory. Dusty cages and heavy lead masks.
Saturating mouths — suck it until you faint, just like I asked.
I love the way the dead air feels, smelling of oil and gunpowder,
And I please you now — does it matter if the screams get even louder?
Seconds later, we’re in the patrol car, in the back, against the hard door,
You’re ripping through my clothes. Surprising, I wasn’t sealing the lock on the floor.
I’m a prisoner.
Wait — scenario six. The interrogation. You’re the braying beast.
Bending me backwards, making every little spot a proprietary feast.
I’m saying, “It was him!” but I’m doing things with you I’ll never recall.
That even do wrong — but that’s for justice, not things — when you’re behind a wall.
Make me your side chick,make it so that you never forget the scheme...
Because the HR Girl’s found a way to become your limbiest dream.
[Outro (fade, breathy whisper, broken terms of usage)]
Lock me up.
donde
There’s no one outside.
…you belong to me now, don’t you.
I’m on the clock.
You’re:.
Not.
Going.
Anywhere.
... unless I take you there.
*hecatmbs*
PrinceShawn
