Friends

She's got a rosary tattooed on her hand;
It snakes around her wrist
and in between her fingertips
and "forgive me"' is always on her lips.

A phone booth serves as her confessional.
as she makes collect calls to old acquaintances;
The priest from her hometown
always answers in the middle of the night,
and the altar boys wire her money.

She's got her mother's medical card
that states she's diabetic.
and she's oh, so careful with those hypodermic needles
But never knows whose bed she wakes up in,
She just knows she was saved the night before.

She says, "shooting up isn't giving up,
It's just another way of praying.
Getting high is just a shortcut to salvation."
When she's there,
She's at the right hand of God.

Mary, full of grace,
full of doubt with the child she carries,
Claims it was immaculate conception.
She was alone in bed when she awoke,
but God left bruises on her thighs.