Every time I hit the town
A dozen faces turn around
Tonight we’ll dance then sleep ‘til dawn
Says the angel with the black dress on.
Skirts like belts, legs long and strong
Made for dancing all night long
High heels stab the streets she walks,
Her darkened lane where money talks.
Don’t talk too much, she’s here to sell
Some say she was made in Hell
Satan’s queen has come for you
But Heaven’s where she’ll take you to.
You pay the price and name the place
For money, she can change her face
Be whoever you want her to be,
For she’s your dream, your fantasy.
Loins embraced by sucking thighs
As the meter ticks in loveless eyes
Her love comes in the shape of cash
With no receipt but perhaps a rash!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem