Painted
lady of the night,
Where
do you dwell when all is light,
Stretched
across a stranger’s bed,
Lips
and cheeks of rose bud red,
Skin
so soft and white.
For
years such beauty I have sought,
For
less than you I've cursed and fought,
You're
worth much more,
Than
any whore,
That
twenty ever bought.
I
find that I desire you
In
spite of what you are and do,
For
who am I, that I condemn,
For
I have much to make amend,
In
all that I've gone through.
We
linger now for just a while,
A
tender kiss, a loving smile,
Should
I propose that she and I,
Link
up in life until we die,
Traveling
every mile.
It's
good to feel a body near,
No
hate or hurt no dread or fear,
A
pillow rests beneath my head,
My
heart content, my pleasure fed,
All
life seems now so clear,
For
hours I have slumbered on,
And
woke in time to greet the dawn,
Reality,
oh how I dread.
I
lay alone upon this bed,
For
certain she has gone.
She's
gone, my mind begins to yell,
I'm
stung, more than my heart can tell.
I'll
look, I'll find her, this I'm sure,
I'll
tell of my desire for her,
No
longer need she sell.
For
weeks I searched the dim nightspots
Where
a soul of many dies and rots.
I
looked upon each painted face,
Each
bar, each flop, each low life place,
Reliving
times forgot.
Each
place I saw the gals I knew,
They'd
grab my arm and kid and coo,
But
I dare not to once relent,
This
mission where each night was spent,
For
none but her would do.
My
cronies soon were not to be,
They
knew not what had troubled me,
My
search seemed endless, all in vain,
I
would not see that face again,
That
face I yearned to see.
Long
weeks had passed, the nights were cold,
Where
whores are bought and drunks are rolled,
I
walked the shadows of the street,
And
who by chance then should I meet,
That
face I now behold.
I
said remember if you can,
This
face this look, I am the man.
One
time with you I spent the night,
I
kissed your lips I held you tight,
And
now I’ve got a plan.
She
smiled and listened, I talked away,
She
was quiet as I said, all I had to say,
Soon
she frowned,
As
she turned around
And
said as she walked away.
It's
not possible to marry me,
My
life demands that I be free.
I’ve
been married before,
I'm
just a whore,
That's
all I'll ever be.
Soon
she was gone in the shadow of night,
Not
gone from my heart, but out of my sight.
She
could never give up
Her
bitter cup
Though
she knew it had never been right.
Painted
lady where do you dwell,
I
miss you more than I dare tell,
In
streets and alleys, shadows cold,
Where
whores are bought and drunks are rolled,
I'll
stay, till called to hell.
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