Sometimes I wonder what I'm doing here
In the middle of this time square booth
Filled with smoke and damp carpet
Soggy with spilled cheap champagne
And the rows of flashing lights
And plastic bowls half full of salted peanuts
And their discarded shells
Miserable tired waitresses
Lousy over-priced drinks
I feel sorry for the men sometimes
Mostly I just feel contempt
The men with their fertive movements
And blank faces
I feel sorry for Stacy
Her face looks like it's been stepped on
Her body is like angel food
Almost too beautiful to look at
Her boyfriend probably doesn't when he hits her
I feel sorry for Lynn
With her expensive lingerie
Cheap dime store wigs
Trying to hide her identity
She's a Yale graduate
With a huge student loan debt
She hooks a little on the side
I feel sorry for Babette
With her handed down clip-on hair
And large luminous eyes
Her adorable accent and broken english can't hide
Her drug habit and predatory nature
Sometimes I wonder what I'm doing here
Dancing naked except for a few sequins
Lying to men for drink commissions
I take their room keys and
Make promises that I know I won't fullfill
We're all victims in one way or another
We're all here for different reasons
Sometimes I wonder what I'm doing here
But I like to sleep all day
And stay out all night
The idea of a straight job
Is like the idea of a straight jacket
I like buying clothes
I like eating in expensive restaurants
And taking taxis
I'm pretty and intellegent
Sarcastic and selfish
And I'm not going to be doing this forever