Mercy

Where do you think she's going, boy?
That's correct sir, under your skin
Old lovers, she's forgetting their names now
Her name is Mercy, and you're out on a limb
She picks your letter up, spits it out again
Drops it into the paper shredder
She's seventeen, and she's tasted your blood, boy
Already she's feeling, feeling so much better
Rich man wants to be young again
Young man, well he wants... to be rich
You want Mercy 'cos she takes you to church
You want Mercy 'cos she scratches your itch
Rich man wants to be young again
Young man, well he wants... to be rich
You want Mercy 'cos she takes you to church
You want Mercy 'cos she scratches your itch
Where do you think she's going, boy?
Where do you think she's going, boy?
Where do you think she's going, boy?