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Big, bad, naughty rock star,
Your claws are shinin' bright in the dark
Liftin' up my little red skirt
I know you’ll leave me here in the dirt
Sunk to the bottom.
“Fallen angel,” they cry,
Drunk sailors watch, aghast,
Hopeless, lifeless, she lie.
They dredge her up,
Callin’ her pale hue tragic,
They study her vacant eyes,
A morose sight, bloated to the surface,
On days of somber skies,
They think of her.
A lonely girl, too young to die.