A Prostitute's Daughter

Mama's home, what does she bring this time,
A stranger of one night.
I give a glance, he nods his head,
Well at least he acknowledged my existence,
Unlike the others.

And I'll just go back to work as her bedroom door closes.
Maybe he'll work with her nicer. Just nicer.

Baby sister, please don't cry,
Mama might just get your milk in time,
No I won't listen to what the other kids say,
I won't look at the way men leer at her ways.

Do I blame my mother, do I hate?
No I don't blame her but yes I hate,
I hate coming home everyday to an empty house,
And lil' Carla's too young to fill.
I hate that she loves me too much,
To give up her fate,
It's not her fault for ending up this way.

Mama didn't go to school,
What choices were there?
It's my fault, ever since I was born, wasn't it?
Mama, you can blame me, you can.
If you didn't have to feed me,
If that bastard never left you.
If.

I'm a whore's daughter, a whore myself.

No, Cathy, she doesn't enjoy what she does,
She isn't satisfied, she satisfies,
Yes, Cathy, you deserved my slap, goddamn you did,

Don't you DARE call her a bitch.

Excuse me mister, why are your hands,
On my mother's behind,
Why are you licking her the way you are?
Why are you using words so vile,
Words mama told me never to use,
Mama, is this supposed to be?
Oh it is?
Okay.

Mama, I'll just go home to prepare you dinner.
And thank you for the kiss, ma.

And that forever look on her forever face,
As she shut her door,
The look of apology,
to the world or herself?
No, it's not her fault,
Not mama's fault,

She's a whore born of love.

It's unfair that they would call her dirty,
Mama cleaned the table after us everyday,
She made sure harm was to her, not us,
Not a man made their way to touch me,
Not a man had gone beyond my mother,
What else could you call this, other than love?

And love is not fucking dirty.