Van and a Flat

Van and a Flat

You have a van
You have a flat
Why give it all up for such a man?

You used to be pretty
Played violin
Now you're leather on bones
Scrawny not slim
With pale clammy sickness in your skin

You used to make things
There was a time when you were free
Now you vomit in the bowl
You empty through a window

Your flat lies empty
Your van falls apart
To supply your man
You're working as a tart

Between each screaming fight
You traipse the streets at night
From the squalor of life
I sometimes hear you cry
"Help me! Help me!"

You have chosen a life of poison
A toxic existence
With a man to supply the clients and the drugs
All you have to do is suck off pimps, thugs
And then get high

But how low is high?
You're still alive
Why choose to die?

When you have a van and a flat?