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lyrics

Her twin bayonets, sharpened like razors and I hear them whisper,
"Kiss us. We're oh so sensitive."
I'll oblige, but only if allowed.
Her pink Juliet, swollen like her eyelids from staying up too late with me.
It yearns for sensation.
It begs to be touched.

Wait! I'm not properly dressed!
Her legs, like Greek goddess vines,
ascend towards the heavens in fashions undesigned.
Her arms, tight around my neck could slaughter and wreck any man that she touches.
Wait! I'm not properly dressed! I've never felt of your sex.

The interlocking of fingers only serves as another puzzle posed.

I am trying to increase your body temperature.
But with me biting your skin, it just makes me look more of a fool.
The female body is terrible, yet treasured territory.
We all fucking claim it, even though we don't say it.
No matter who's been there before.
The look in your eyes could move mountains.
And when the wave hits, proclaim it at the maximum volume your throat can attain.
Climax should be mutually beneficial.

The interlocking of fingers only serves as another puzzle posed.

Our gasping breaths synchronize and our sweat becomes one.
Our skin becomes one. Our hearts become one.
Our rest is assured and well deserved.

credits

from He Forced This Island Upon Himself, released August 28, 2014

license

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about

Millipede Antennae Little Rock, Arkansas

Terrible music by a mediocre musician. Featuring some friends.

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