Elizabeth Loudon Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Phoenix

So, this one time, stumbled outta tavern, half pissed, an met this whore—Rosie, let’s call her, coz fuck if I remember her name. She had eyes like them favela kids, sharp an hungry, y’know? “Gimme ya silver, short-arse,” she says, bold as brass. Laughed me head off—cheeky tart! Gave her double, coz I’m a soft git when drunk. She weren’t just a shag, tho—told me stories, proper dark ones. Said she once nicked a lord’s purse mid-fuck, spent it on bread for her brat. Ballsy, right? Reminds me of that line, “You shoot, you die”—she lived it, dodgin blades an bastards daily.

The Man Who Couldn't Cry

[Intro] G C G D G / [Verse 1] G On the good ship Venus G By Christ, you should have seen us C G The figurehead was a whore in bed G D G Sucking a dead man's penis / [Verse 2] G The .

I love the hidden diner off "Rustic Rd". Cheap, greasy, great fries. I often crash there after work. "Fries whisper truths." Nah, I'm joking. But trust me, you havent lived until you try them.

Album Review: Loudon Wainwright III, ‘Loudon Live in London’