You cup your palms like shovels always begging for more, I'm tired of working my ass off for you. You spread your thights and whisper sounding just like a whore, Don't keep coming for more...
You may have tasted my body But you won't taste my soul You may have felt your flesh stretching to the depths of your every hole. You felt liquid and solid, you felt pleasure and fear You may have felt your flesh stretching to the depths of your every hole!
And if you're all that you claim to be Then I'm not losing anything So just stand there upon your knees And feel the joy of suffering