Angels and sailors
 Rich girls
 Backyard fences
 Tents

 Dreams watching each other narrowly
 Soft luxuriant cars
 Girls in garages, stripped
 Out to get liquor and clothes
 Half gallons of wine and six-packs of beer
 Jumped, humped, born to suffer
 Made to undress in the wilderness

 I will never treat you mean
 Never start no kind of scene
 I'll tell you every place and person that I've been

 Always a playground [bad word]  never a killer
 Always a bridesmaid on the verge of fame or over
 He manouvered two girls into his hotel room
 One a friend, the other, the young one, a newer stranger
 Vaguely Mexican or Puerto Rican
 Poor boys thighs and buttock scarred by a father's belt
 She's trying to rise
 Story of her boyfriend, of teenage stoned death games
 Handsome lad, dead in a car
 Confusion
 No connections [bad word] 'ere
 I love you
 Peace on earth
 Will you die for me?
 Eat me
 This way
 The end

 I'll always be [bad word]  Never go out, sneaking out on you, babe
 If you'll only show me Far Arden again

 – I'm surprised you could get it up
 He whips her lightly, sardonically, with belt
 – Haven't I been through enough? she asks
 Now dressed and leaving
 The Spanish girl begins to bleed
 She says her period
 It's Catholic heaven
 I have an ancient Indian [bad word] around my neck
 My chest is hard and brown
 Lying on stained, wretched sheets with a bleeding virgin
 We could plan a murder
 Or start a religion...