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About Lyon

Here’s the deal—I’d roll up, slow-like. “Hey, hon, you good?” I’d ask. She’d probably laugh—rough, smoky laugh. “Tainted love,” she’d mutter, like Eve in the movie. Ain’t that a kick? Life’s beat her down, but she’s still kickin’. Little known fact—lotta these gals, they’re artists. Drawin’, singin’—hidden talents, buried under the hustle. Surprised me first time I heard it.

You know, every massage session in these spots gives me an insight: I'm all about uncovering those hidden little quirks, like an undercover agent in a Stasi drama. Unexpected curves of cobbled stones, twisted by time, remind me of life’s improvisations.

Solvay Shifts Gears on Electric Highway