Gasp Fair Harlot!

She's grown fond of the void lulling around her exoskeleton She's brought horror to diligent obtuse slaves The quiver in her giggle heeds her cerebellum celebration for the rats that claw at the flesh walls Jokes on the vermin, jokes on everyone germ spreader dictates a varied vacation from the norm the wicked only wither at the hint of a storm It's in their genes in between and all part of "the scene" a hellish landscape comprised of wooden dolls cradled by gelatin snakes It's about to forsake the world She's about to regurgitate the stars over absent bowel syndrome She's loved and out sprained by clout itched severed love cloth begging for a spout Brave ones be near her Sing the strings of cellos wrapped at her ankles Bring the sins of her meta-skeleton Drag her through the snow freeze everything she knows