Out on a cold night,
In the breezy freezy streets,
Lit with ambient red light,
And sullen stars in a sombre sky,
Watching over humans in skimpy skirts,
Haggling to eke out a living,
Before the night catches up with morning,

I’m late from an outing with friends,
And I downed a drink too many,
To have even spared a few coins for my pocket,
Forgetting I had no return ticket,
And not even the ever present Tiffany,
By my side to give me company.

Counting the stars I tiredly trudge back home,
Choosing the safest city street,
As the solace for a lone night walker.
An infamous red-light district,
A dome,
Not for the fainthearted,

Or so she told me,
Was her name,
And even from my drunken stupor,
I could tell she was racy,
And my tired sleepy eyes could see,
She was after something and it wasn’t fame.

‘We walk the night,
In clothes so tight,
Not because we are desperate,
But because life is a disparage,
Call me names if you want,
But I think you’ve got my point,
I’m out to make a living,
From those who got too much that they are tossing.’

Stacy is not out there because the night breeze is pleasant,
But because she can’t rise from being a peasant,
Yet she too wants a good car,
And a decent house not too far,
Away from the city,
Where she can get an opportunity,
To delve into a different line of business,
And get a pay to buy her family happiness.

I stopped calling them call girls

You can find this and many other jokes in the application:


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