I do though… ,
I cannot hide this utter necessity to simply bear with you
By all out tumultuous accounts, you amount to a war with fukwit words
I do loath your juxta-supposed slur, so you gotta grow to goddamnit knowing
This entire thing has been rather fair agonisingly preposterous
I don’t suppose you could ever so much as do me a quickfire favour
And sling your jagged-lipped hook – it took ten thousand beer-bellied, -swilling nobody’s somewhere
If only for a mere ego-driven instance, when your fairy dress presses itself against to prep the tantalised tent within these prone pretenders crushed inside of seriously kitch skinny jeans
Disgusting right this minute, to shudder, to think that you made That shuddering member breathe amidst these deceit-ridden devil eyes barely disguised
Don’tcha know, lust not love… where there’s a male there’s a way to please these ridiculously onslaught hormones
Tuck your sabre-teeth on in someplace far less peculiarly special
To only ever Me…