All Used Up

Cowering, falling ¦ beat to the ground. Deranged thoughts take me down. Like a thunderbolt piercing my heart so weak, I walk alone on Calgary's streets. High heel shoes, pert red lips, moving slowly while swinging those hips. Dark nights under lamp shades I'll stand, reaching out for a pole or a shake of a hand. Don't get much money, work all night long. Keep on humming an old blues song. I wear short skirts to show my wares, My body hangs after so many years. I'm last in line, no more the cream of the crop. Old and grey, I know it's time to stop. The habit of the snow, keeps me on the go, I'll work until the day I die and that everybody knows.