In a sty of stench,
she lay high and drenched,
So much to lament and fuss,
but no one she could ever trust.
Poured more negligent pints,
The stereo and her grouse were in rhyme,
She dropped on the floor, naked and bare
Cried big tears to her teddy bear
Tears streamed down past
the heaviness that grew in her heart,
Holding the spasms of pain in her insides
Twas the day she should have been a bride.
Made of small joys and pains,
An independent tigress she,
Still a little child inside
Calmed her fears with her teddy bear.
Her charming smile and candor,
brought her much gossip and slander,
Her wings chipped, she lay in anger,
She still wanted justice, an answer.
For those who stayed wanted to see her,
Only in joy, poise and good color.
But no promises, commitment or care,
For those solemn days of cheap beer and despair
Living alone was a choice,
Feeling alone was her vice
And then why does everyone who deserted her say
She learned bad habits, ’cause alone she stays?