I know this girl that’s ridden
under the eaves of Sodom,
Strangling the gods with
her underwater rack,
pumping her sack,
the downward of intrepid denying,
sweetheart, she ain’t
crying

She stand to the freezing wind
then turn and slap him in
here she feel the sting of shame,
this illicit rage of frame
that carries her to the barracks
of terrible whores and wild
cataracts

I’ve seen less of a god than her
walk this forlorn earth,
felt the touch of a demon
with rich crawl of merry sin,
I’ve tangled with nothing quite
as dirty,
but gods bless this Gomorrish deity

So she turned around
and felt the ground
the stars sang into her pants

She could’ve been so much more
than just a local pub whore,
but I thank Baal
and Dagon
she went wrong.