Working Boy: The American Male Prostitute

A man has to support his wife

A man has to feed his kids

A man has to work to make it

Being a “working boy” was his destiny

His heart sick with green

Love was now his poison

Sex had become way to cope

Outside he glistened

He wanted the American Dream

The fifty bucks slain on the counter

This was his real climax

He reached for his pants then the cash

Inside he decayed

Always so lonely

Just shy of being a man

But what would you do?

If you had the life of a male prostitute

A working boy in a land of no work

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