Worry me not because of hazel eyes
Pity me not for transient hands, a transient romance

Pity those who live with a million backs,
Thinking as though they have selection
Merely selections, selections A plethora

No one wants, no one, mark my words
Genuinely wants to **** a ***** *******
Whimsical and flying, a absent look across your pasty face
Intrusive eyes tracing, your snotty nose across that silly face
That silly face you make, lazy used *****
Exercise a little more, won't you?
You're the one who believes he has an ocean

No ocean, no
A little cradle of girls with crumpled hearts
and slits on their embalmed pasties.

I'm disgusted, disgusted, disgusted by these sweaty ball sacks
Arrogance in their snorts, farts and living as though they can be
they can be disgusting, nauseating, revoltingly HUMAN

While I must adorn a satin sleek smile
Hairless ivory and flowery areolas
The ice cool temper of no wavering, no moving forward

Why must I be polished and pretty
Why must I put my soft palate against your sweaty naked jockstrap
Why must I let you crush my skull with your meaty, hairy presence
Choking my throat with disgusting salami of 18 years too late
Am I expected to smile and compliment you for this catastrophe?

No, worry me not that Hazel eyes no longer trace me
Pity me Not that I do not have meaty hands torturing my skull

Feel my liberation in your cold sock of cries.

**** **** *******!