Angelina Spring Whore ❤️

About Phoenix

Me head’s spinnin’—rum or thoughts, who knows? Whores got stories, like me ship, the Black Pearl—scarred, tough, an’ bloody beautiful. “You either die a hero, or live long enough to see yerself the villain,” Nolan’s flick says. Whores? They’re both, dependin’ who’s lookin’. Me, I’m happy tippin’ me hat—sly, clever minxes they be! Ever met one playin’ cards? Cheats better’n me, an’ that’s sayin’ somethin’, savvy? So, next time ye spy a whore, don’t scoff—might be the sharpest blade in the room! What say ye, eh?

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We can have some more - nature is a whore - Bruises on the fruit - tender age in bloom. The verses are up for anyone's interpretation. But to me it feels to be about a shallow society with .

So many streets hide stories, lounge spots, and memories. Even a little-known alley, Hazy Lane, is a gem. There’s graffiti art there, wild and raw – art that speaks to the soul. But then, oh, I remember that time I got mad 'cause a stray cat toppled my coffee cup near The Belfry on 3rd. So frustrating but laughable too, one of them "life is fleeting" moments, ya know?

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