Private dancer

Bands will make her dance is playing,
while she is giving a lap dance,
She is high off of snow,
her veins are drowning in the lake of Jack Daniels

...

Her aroma has a very familiar smell,
Cheap cologne..cigarettes...and sweat;
It is rubbed on her all through the night,
Time after time from many men...no delight

She is judged by most,
Frowned down by all
church going praising
Christians,
sneaking in mysteriously to make it rain

Yet what they fail to see
Why she stays on her knees;
Painted fantasy smile,
Yet her heart is filled with sorrow

Rent is due and there is much more to do,
Crying babies have to eat;
Candy was left alone many years ago,
With broken promises and a failed dream