I want to sin differently,
Not being picked up by men in flashy cars,
And get two minutes of what they call fun,
As my rent arrears get cleared.
I want to sin differently,
I want to be clothed,
In black stockings and heels,
A black skirt and shirt,
As fake pearls dangle from my ear.
I want to sin differently,
Not from whips that draw pleasure,
Or chains that tie my guilt,
maybe while being chauffeured,
I want to sin differently,
Sign cheques worth millions,
Fully dressed with a smile,
My consciousness no where near.
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