Once upon a time she looked so fine
Dressed to a tee she was so inclined
Until one day she happened to cross
that elusive monster they called it horse
She rode his back from day to day
Until such time as he made her pay
Hiding behnd the clothers she wears
Trying to get away from the people's stares
Hands tracked with dark black lines
No longer fine, she began her decline
Newark to Manhattan, the Bronx and Brooklyn
by train, by bus, or by cab to Crooklyn
in hallways, basements, gas stations and parks
The studio, the club, alone in the dark
Where is the man who looks after the sheep
Counting dollars in his caddy down on 115th Street
Sitting right outside the graveyard
Selling little white bags of death
An empty soul - a broken life
She takes her last breath