Boyish, boyish boy
So typical, you play guitar
The boring way
The boy way
The want my body way
You’re not the first to make me compromise
My learning with my ****
Brown eyes scoping Italy
Over my thighs, the ones you snap
Compare to yours
Knowing **** well I tried to starve them E string size.
You’ve got no lips
I’m kissing your cupids bow
Foul, foul morning breath
You take pride in not smelling
But you smell like rotting meat
Meat with hair, too much hair
Even on the back I’m supposed to scratch
And you call me awkward
Blood on my chest
I don’t know how you ******* dare
Grab my breast one more time
I’ll ******* **** you
******* boy.