A fist full of sugar
and a fist full of spice.

One fist full of me
while he’s rolling the dice.

One look in his eyes
and I didn’t think twice.

He gave me the goods
and I asked him the price.

Nothing for you,
my treat, just be nice.

So we’re back at our place
with a bottle on ice.


Now he treats me
three times a day
like a meal.

Something in the way
that he makes me feel.

I need his presence
in order to heal.

If you put your
trust in a thief,
they’ll just steal.

So I put my belief into
something more real.

I met the dealer,
so I told him,
deal!



© whispering_ink