The first time was special,
now the novelty wears thin.
The first time I met a man,
the first time I let him in.
To my dark, perverse world
To my deep, hidden wants
which he taunted taunted taunted,
and continues still to haunt.
This man, to me meant more,
the first man who made me ***.
This man, to me meant more,
the first man who left me numb.
This man, to me meant more,
I fell victim to his whims.
This man, to me meant more,
had me suffering on two limbs.
Because this man was not a man,
as I so previously had believed
He who made me oh so anxious
the dark thoughts made me dry heave.
Because this man was not a man,
he never expected much to be.
Because this man was not a man,
he killed something inside of me.
So now to me, love means ***.
All alone I'm left to dress.
I **** to get out all my stress.
And love ignores me.
Because I ignore love.
I'll do anything to feel man's skin
I'll do anything to get it in
I'll do anything to lay my head
upon the breast
of a man who will never love me.
This man, to me meant more.
But because this man was not a man,
he left me with a heart so sore.
