Queenie

For each bit of you, in case anyone enquires, you don’t give a hoot, life is a trombone, played in a choir, who cares if no one phones, a little cup of ruin, shines brighter than fire, it gets you in tune, don't think they don't know, this poisoous desire, twists in you alone, sings the same truth, demands who's for hire, searches for some clue, if someone chokes, then suddenly expires, receive their life's song, dance on the avenue, cry on the wire, pray for all your dues, nothing beats a tryer.