in this city there is no judgement

I wore men's black underwear, 60 denier tights, a long flowing black skirt and a large black coat

I saw her bare arms and I saw her bare thighs and not a word had left my mouth about it

In this city there is no judgement

I was yelling, I was screaming, I was throwing up in the back room bathroom, huffing, heaving, heavily breathing

You listen to my voice, only hearing a larynx elevated speaking in a sweet tone

I roar with a desperate strength, pleading
Just to turn any heads in my direction

But in this city, there is no judgement