Meat Closet Lyrics

Meat Closet lyrics

Her number's on the wall of a telephone box

But a mistress in distress is
something she's not

You see, She can fake it - She can take the lot,

And She can take you for every damn thing that you've got



If
you said that she was just a whore 

Well she'd bite your Dick off and
throw it out the door

When She's back to front and she's down on all
fours,

You'd never guess that She hated you, and that She was so fucking
bored



She lives on Pills, Cat food and Cigarette ash,

She's
got one eye on the time and one eye on your cash

She knows just what She
wants- and what She wants is what she gets

Give it to her and She'll give
it to you, but She'll have no regrets