no inconvenience too great, nor pricetag too high for a lip-smackin' taste of edible cellulite
x2
tape it to your inner thigh, save your body the time damn your inordinate desire.
x2
satiation, it's never enough, an indication of your type 2 early-onset
x4
you'd sell your soul for a lowly, insignificant piece of cake, while at the same time, you retain much in common with said piece of cake: you're both vile, artificial, and fake!
may your skin fold unto itself as if in retraction (from the bounds) of tasteful consumption
x2
i'll bleed the molasses from your veins, my beautiful american boy i'll make you squeal like the fuckin' pig you are. i'll bleed the molasses from your veins, my beautiful american boy