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Now that I have my trophy of your anatomy |
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Your stiff can be excised aberrantly |
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Convulsions transpire you're seeping suppuration |
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Our intimacy is arcane to culture |
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These ethics I contain in my arsenal of pleasure |
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Fail to be appreciated |
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Your proposition isn't good enough |
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My expectations don't meet yours |
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In due time I'll dictate your vile form |
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Into my incapable hands and claim you for my own |
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You're born into these hands again |
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Send the slut back to hell |
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Another whore to seek to fondle and misuse |
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Back to the grave to exhume again |
