Standing by the men's room,
I stiffen with your kiss.
A grinding through the rinding pelviotic,
Dig your fingers in my neck
And make me burp for more,
It doesn't take a genius
To determine what's in store.
Fill the need.
You've yet to see,
That everyone of us gets our chance to bleed.
Leslie I will tell you just what I think you need,
A bowl of milk and bananas and an ounce of gentility.
Your head is filled with poison,
Your mouth is spewing hate.
I read a book on Hitler hoping that it might relate.
Just come with me.
It's oh, so unneccessary,
The two of us should be in such misery.
You've been staking out my little dump,
You're always on the phone.
If I blink my eyes she's there,
Don't she know a guy needs leavin' alone?
Leslie if you'll let me,
I'll tie you to a post.
And when we finish making love you'll dig it just the most.
Your slutty sins we'll sanctify with sacrilegious smut,
Then after several showers we shall probe the deepest cuts.
On your knees.
If you try to lie you'll surely see,
There's no one listening who matters muchly to me.
© copyright 1992 Chris Giunta