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letra de number 9 - marilyn manson

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marilyn manson
miscellaneous
no. 9
“take my money,”
is all i think.
he looks at the earring.
“f-g,” he mumbles.
i don’t mind.
he’s fat.
no one likes him.
life’s too short.
i p-ss a table of black girls
with short hair.
they look like men.
they all look the same.
i can hear the strobe now,
it’s loud.
and the music’s too bright.
i look for my friends,
but i can’t remember if i came alone
or not.
doesn’t matter though.
there’s hundreds of people
who have waited all their lives,
no doubt,
to be my friend.
and as i near the bar
i see two persons
eating each other’s faces.
i bark to the bartender.
he gives me a placebo.
i’m “so young,” he tells me,
“to be here.”
i nod and swallow the bland drink.
then i stumble several times
near a crowd,
and they think i’m a good dancer.
i hear a girl tell another girl
that some girl she knows
watched a
girl
puke in the toilet.
i smile in their general direction.
the good-looking one comes over
and bites my cheek.
it hurts,
and i start to
hit her.
but she’s grinning,
and i can see my blood on her teeth.
and i pull her to me.
“my place or yours?”
“the gutter will be fine,” she confesses.
as we walk out,
she takes another bite from my cheek,
and i smile at the fat man
by the door.

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