Everybody wants to know…

When will I do better in my life?...  
And I say what will be the cost…
how high is the price!
Who do I sell out to, who is the bidder
willing to pay the highest price?!
What is the coast of my soul?
My spirit has a for sale sign
waiting for the big spender to come
and pay the cost of selling my life.

To survive, to survive!!!  

Does it matter that I have paid
in blood, sweat and tears,
in night terror and unspoken fears,
does it matter to anyone
that it hurts beyond the words,
that it’s killing me slowly
with its mental sword!!

No better than a whore
I sell myself to eat, live and survive
to hell with my self-respect, fuck my pride
my soul doesn’t put food on the table
and my standards cannot pay light,
the water or cable!

It’s all about making it to the next day
and enduring the night
it’s about not going hungry
while never giving up the fight!

Who am I? I am the one
whoring out her life just to survive.
who does it matter to,  no one,
until they want a piece of me too!

Gypsy Red