... and now, a song.

To the tune of The Boxer.

I am just a call girl
Though my story's seldom told
I have fought the rad fems deftly
For a inbox full of promises like prayers for my soul
All lies and jests
Still a girl hears what she needs to hear
And disregards the rest

When I left my home and my family
I was no more than a girl
In the company of escorts
In the quiet of a plush hotel running scared
Laying low, seeking out the higher quarters
Where the wealthy people go
Looking for the places only they would know

Lie la lie ...
Asking only hooker's wages
I come looking for a job
And I get some offers,
Plus a heads up from the girls on Shaftesbury Avenue
I do declare, there were times when I was so lonesome
But there was camaraderie there

Lie la lie ...

Then I'm laying out my outcall clothes
And knowing I am home
I am home
Where the Dublin City winters aren't bleeding me
Bleeding me, I am home

In the clearing stands an escort
And a fighter by her trade
And she carries the reminders
Of every one that put her down
Or hurt her till she cried out
In her anger and her name
"Legislate against or mock me"
But the fighter still remains

Lie la lie ...

LL xx