It was good, wasn't it?

With my mates gone on their own ways,
wandering back to their empty flats,
whining and shuffling like lost little strays,

I sigh, pull out my phone -
about to sink back into my lonely pit,
filled with a hundred broken hearts
and black devil's spit...

That's when our eyes suddenly catch,
you stood by the bar,
an iced ***** in your hand -
drinking just to pass the time,

and I'm stood there,
by the exit, a ringing mobile in mine.

Through the lavish, heavily sagged light,
you slowly approach -
preening back so that every inch
of your slick body
is in clear sight.

And that night
we made, not love,
but ******, sweaty lust -
a drunken ****** act
built on nothing but hidden motives and flawed trust.

And yes, it was good;
your firm golden skin,
dimpled by the lace straps of your bra,
mouth pulled into that **** grin...

But I don't love you.

I've laid all of my deck on the table,
held up and shown my playing hand -
me and you, Babe,

It was only a one night stand.

And yet you stole my number
off my closest friend,

Is this ever-
Is this ever going to end?

You're just an abdominal cramp in my existence;
still ringing my phone,
with that irritating persistence -

And I'm retreating back
into my twisted, abandoned pit -
the sweat on my body
turning slowly into that black devil spit.