Patron Saint of Lipstick

He'll put on red lipstick
No matter the neighbours
Gender wars and hostile
Graffiti in corridors

And sit by the window
The river down below
Oh mother, he's lonely
As a saint of travesty

He wears a blue halo
For his fraternity
Oh mother, he's lonely
As a saint of travesty

He walks by the river
His lipstick a pointer
To raising the dead
In an East side cemetery

He goes out at night
His light like a star
Putting diamonds on fingers
Of the broken and poor

Oh mother, he's lonеly
As a saint of travesty
He wears a bluе halo
For his fraternity

His friends have nyloned toes
In silver stilettos
And dance to a mirror
In sequins and glitter

Oh mother, he's lonely
As a saint of travesty
Handing out red roses
In a ruined cemetery

He'll put on red lipstick
And go out after dark
Through the foggy park
And come home at dawn
Oh mother, he's lonely
As a saint of travesty

He sits by the window
Drinking tea with his shadow
A leopard skin coat
Draped over his shoulders

Oh mother, he's lonely
As a saint of travesty
Watching fog on the river
Creates a white halo