You’re laying there,
Your hair’s a nimbus,
A jumbled mess around your head,
And my head is spinning,
You’re so fucking sexy,
And my dick is hard,
My pussy’s wet,
Well, actually it’s your pussy,
But you know how “Finders, Keepers” works,
So it’s my pussy now.


I’m gonna be on stage, baby,
I’m gonna squint in those bright lights,
I’ll do what I do, ‘cause I know
What you do, when it’s dark outside,
On a weekday night, I’m in front
Of an audience, beating my crank,
Letting the audience see
How I yank, I make your lap sing
With artful ministrations, you make
My tip shoot warm and wet libations,
Thanks for coming out, tell your
Friends, drive safe and goodnight.

The thing about thirst is
It’s all-consuming, my mouth
Roughens, my tongue swells,
And you’re so wet down there,

Your pussy’s wet,
Like it’s always wet,
When I rub it with my fingers,
I washed them first,
Like I always do,
So my filth don’t get up in you,
I used wet wipes, dear,
Like you want me too,
‘cause I haven’t washed in days,
And neither have you,
And I know that is true,
‘cause your pussy smells like playa dust and morning,
Just like the kipper snacks and bourbon
I had for breakfast.