Generic

Bent in all directions, 
twisting into knots. 
Don’t know which way to go- 
Who’s calling all the shots? 
 
Suicidal prom queens-whores; 
Jack the Ripper is back! 
Decomposing membranes-cancer; 
white walls are painted black… 
 
Everyone wants a perfect face- 
puppets to dance for dimes. 
Sitting in cheap hotel rooms, 
with the scent of sex left behind. 
And then needles start to bring relief 
of a never-fading bad memory. 
Thick toxins flow through visible veins, 
blurring visions of any destiny. 
 
Tracing out a story-line, 
faint scars will dress the skin. 
And as neon lights become luxury, 
the world bleeds gold for sin. 
 
Going all directions-bent; 
Our lives are twisted knots. 
Never knowing which way to go. 
Who’s calling all the shots?

Calling all the Shots