Wrist Taker

Dirty pink chair on New York City sidewalk.

Pretty in pink,

Is what they said.

The seat of your love, 

Where other men bled. 

Their blood of black grease,

Left stained on your arms.

They traded their hearts,

For your furniture charms.

And then I came along,

And sat in your lair.

Joining the carnage of lovers,

Burned in your electric chair.