She was born to a city of street cars and secrets In search of something, a boy or a witness She was an empress with a vulgar bravado She worshipped plastic prophets She knew the comedy of a necktie And the silky lightness Of expensive fabrics She traded blood for sugar She's trading blood for sugar She tiptoes as her lovers sleep An awkward man with a whiskey weakness And her tears turned to opals and pearls And she threads them onto a silver cord And her mattress has secrets A tuxedo, a promise A ceremony, a compromise… She traded blood for sugar She's trading blood for sugar… She was embarra**ed by her paint and her sequins And the vocabulary of motel rooms And her mattress has secrets She traded blood for sugar She's trading blood for sugar…