Flower power, words sour and scour black and white fiction
Dictions of dicktation, with approbation, elation mired in frustration
Musing as my sliver quivers, your tongues give me shivers
Dirty deeds, they heed, I plead no need, no need
On top, don’t stop…can’t stop, won’t stop…
Give me, take me, we go up, we go down,
In wet seas, a man can drown
Hide the desire that fuels the fire, liar liar
Whose pants are on fire? Take me higher, higher
Rabbits felt like purple plastic, nothing to be so read ecstatic
A bullet to my butterfly made me sigh, I swear I heard an angel cry
Battery powered masculinity, robbing divinity
Synthesized lies spreading unhappy reprise
Madonna on her knees praying, they call her whore
Stripping down, who is paying? Money makes it such a chore
Fighting for the upper hand, move the fantasy from the nightstand
Always bickering and dickering, firey tongue flickering
Quickening isn’t sickening, fore, I say, play
Play in the light of day, quiet the din of sin you’re in
Break down the violin, don’t repress, time to profess
Say what you seek, told to be quiet and meek
Not me, says I, gimme thunder in my thighs
Thor’s hammer with Vor’s Wisdom, Tri, I cry
Hands are softer than a bullet’s kiss, nature gives butterflies bliss
Mah Butt Itches 
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