She shacked
up with the wrong surgeon
Doctor! Doctor!
What have you done?
She slept beneath a blanket of scalpels
and woke up with skin like fingernails.
Doctor! Doctor!
What pleasure do you crave when sex lacks passion?
When the hospital lights are dimmed low?
This knife cut fashion lacks compassion,
but who says being an abomination of human cartilage isn’t a statement?
Now cover girl, your cover up drips like dairy.
When I see you, walking by yourself,
I wanna cut the corners off your lips,
I wanna shave the angles off your cheeks,
I wanna wash the geometry off your face.
Those cosmetics run, run, run like ivory blood burns.
You keep coming back to get fucked on the operating table.
You keep coming back a different shade of nauseating.
It’s time to take that face back to the bank
and count the cash you really make.
Pennies, doctor, pennies!
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