Meat Closet lyrics

Her number`s on the wall of a telephone box
But a mistress in distress is something she`s not
You see, She can fake it - She can take the lot,
And She can take you for every damn thing that you`ve got

If you said that she was just a whore
Well she`d bite your Dick off and throw it out the door
When She`s back to front and she`s down on all fours,
You`d never guess that She hated you, and that She was so fucking bored

She lives on Pills, Cat food and Cigarette ash,
She`s got one eye on the time and one eye on your cash
She knows just what She wants- and what She wants is what she gets
Give it to her and She`ll give it to you, but She`ll have no regrets
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