No. 9 - Marilyn Manson
Take my money, " Is all I think. He looks at the earring. "Fag," he mumbles. I don't mind. He's fat. No one likes him. Life's too short. I pass a table of black girls With short hair. They look like men. They all look the same. I can hear the strobe now, It's loud. And the music's too bright. I look for my friends, But I can't remember if I came alone Or not. Doesn't matter though. There's hundreds of people Who have waited all their lives, No doubt, To be my friend. And as I near the bar I see two persons Eating each other's faces. I bark to the bartender. He gives me a placebo. I'm "so young," he tells me, "To be here." I nod and swallow the bland drink. Then I stumble several times Near a crowd, And they think I'm a good dancer. I hear a girl tell another girl That some girl she knows Watched a Girl Puke in the toilet. I smile in their general direction. The good-looking one comes over And bites my cheek. It hurts, And I start to Hit her. But she's grinning, And I can see my blood on her teeth. And I pull her to me. "My place or yours?" "The gutter will be fine," she confesses. As we walk out, She takes another bite from my cheek, And I smile at the fat man By the door. Transcrita por Sorrento
Artist: Marilyn Manson
Title: No. 9