Your latest test, your wrecking ball
Your breath ran pest, your missing call

You’re doing this, you’re running hot
This awful truth, this awful spot
My empty grave, my hairy chest
The blue eyed stare, my Sunday best
The spat out cum, a slipped out note
A tiny crust, you rock that boat

My blocking hand, this funky smell
One hit below, this is your hell
My blocking hand, this funky smell
One hit below, this is your hell

Little white lie, a secret date
A bottle of wine, this is what you create
What now my love, is this the end
What about all the letters that you send
A broken vase, a closing door
There’s nothing here, still you want more

My blocking hand, this funky smell
One hit below, this is your hell
My blocking hand, this funky smell
One hit below, this is your hell

With syphilis you run me down
I leave the throne, you steal the crown
The master bed is empty now
And I remember a single vow
He was a tourist is our bedroom
That would make me your wretched groom

You say: fuck me I say: just die
I bless you with love you spit in my eye
You leave the house, you make me cry
Is there only but and no question of why
You walk away from every plot
You’re shouting now: you make it something it’s not