Candy On the Cross

Lyrics
Goose pimple cold in a white plastic mini She teeters on broken high heels Sucks on Silk Cut Sixteen and old And we'll never know how she feels She's sold and re-sold Summer dress in November The wind howls through the cloth Like a blade Sad little doll With an arm full of heroin This is how candy is made This is how candy is made There's no guardian angel In the Caledonian Road There's no guardian angel In the Caledonian Road It's three hundred days Since she went helter-skeltering Damaged goods can still be sold Three hundred nights Under stars there's no shelter Just lager to make her feel bold Since she's been broken There's no feeling Lying with her legs spread Staring at the celing In a shabby little room Where sex is a chore Will a Fether Lite Keep the wolf from the door? She's hard, yet soft Tough but brittle No talk, no kiss, no spunk or spittle Hates her pimp Pities the trick Her addiction keeps her...sick There's no guardian angel In the Caledonian Road There's no guardian angel
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Credits
- Writers
- David J