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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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