they've got no flavour
they've got no soul
they got no oumf-
they whimper on in a magicless fashion
like it's all been laid before
again and again, word after word
made of magic, every one of them they say
i don't buy much of anything they say
they can throw words like water cascading down rocks in waterfalls
and play on me until i'm red and raw,
but i don't see the magic in it
like a crawling on the skin
they all reek of arrogance with their 'finesse'
and they're dancing, like tongues around the dinner table
slapping away at happy faces, ******* without touching
crying without tears, asking without caring
i'm used to it by now, as sad as it seems
the proverbial ******* that we get everyday
although no actual ******* has been had
lawyers and school teachers alike
they all get theirs,
they slowly push in their throbbing manhood
with their, "how have you been?"
which of course - is just a form of foreplay
after that is when the real ******* begins
"me and Jerry have been holidaying in Peru"
which each word getting closer and closer to the ******
and when it's over and done they discard you
like some cheap emotional ******,
i avoid them now, in bars and cars
and shops and homes, at parties and at all places
whenever i see a good ******* i know what it is
i smile and watch.
