She was born to a city of street cars and secrets
In search of something, a boy or a witness
She was an empress with a vulgar bravado
She worshipped plastic prophets
She knew the comedy of a necktie
And the silky lightness
Of expensive fabrics
She traded blood for sugar
She's trading blood for sugar
She tiptoes as her lovers sleep
An awkward man with a whiskey weakness
And her tears turned to opals and pearls
And she threads them onto a silver cord
And her mattress has secrets
A tuxedo, a promise
A ceremony, a compromise…
She traded blood for sugar
She's trading blood for sugar…
She was embarra**ed by her paint and her sequins
And the vocabulary of motel rooms
And her mattress has secrets
She traded blood for sugar
She's trading blood for sugar…