loved i two men   equally well   though they were diff'rent   as heaven and hell   one was an artist   one drove a truck   one would make love   the other would fuck   each treated me   the way he knew best   one help me lightly   one bruised my breast   and i responded   on two diff'rent levels   like children reacting   to angels and devils   one was a poet   who sang and read verse   one was a peasant   who drank and who cursed   before you decide   who's cruel and who's kind   let me explain   what i felt   in my heart and my mind....      the artist was tender   but suffered from guilt   making him sorry   the following day   and he made me feel guilty   the very same way   in his bed on the following day   the other would take me   and feel no remorse   he'd wake with a smile   in the bed where we lay   and he made me smile   in the very same way   in his bed on the following day   the blow to my soul   by fear and taboos   cut deeper far   than a bodily bruise   and the one who was gentle   hurt me much more   than the one who was rough   and made love on the floor.