Tuesday, August 04, 2009


Oh you would take it in the morning in the fag-ash haze when the day hurt your face, wouldn’t you? You would lie back there and think of everything you’d lost as I bent over and my hair made a curtain and hid from view what I was doing.
What I was doing was taking your prick in my mouth and milking it. For kicks, for old times sake and for the chance I might squeeze a drop of real emotion out of those soft balls. Even your contempt was like a salt lick, and me the poor hungry cow.

(Unfortunately there isn't a better quality version of this song on youtube)

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