The Couple

hand in hand
we're hand in hand
and it so happens i can't stomach your touch
that fucking sugar skull of yours says it all
dolled up in white and paris
and everyone knows there's nothing vestal about you whatsoever
your purity is a myth
unable to even gat a pure batch of crystalware
and you're seen through the stem of a glass
scene through the wine and you're nothing but dead
dead words dead bodyworks
you'll never be no fucking bride
not since i got this chewing the flesh from your face habit
you got this vomit based makeup kit
and you're nothing but a cumdumpster to boot
you with those puppy got thrown off a cliff eyes
not sure whether to skin you or pity you
in the end seems the same more or less
but i'm no good at pulling away furlines and organs
never got enough practice at it
doesn't really change shit
i'm promising a good time in either case
and in either hand you're not worth a fucking thing
worthless stained fucking whore
nothing but a play thing for pubcrawls and foreign objects
and we're all looking to hawk phlegm onto that wingspan
bitch keep your fucking face under the covers
can't fucking stand that money activated moan of yours
all of out birth control methodology
we're behind tax exclusions
all out of those excuse mes
and whether you give a fuck or not is beyond me
looking to paint you in gold no matter what you fucking want
don't mean shit to me
i mean you now
you don't mean shit to me
we're no more than a cordless drill away from some role play
that swamphole of yours doesn't do it for me
you're not cutting it no more
you with that dress of disarray and fallaway eyes
no more of those silly little figurines summiting wedding cakes
we're glammed out in tailcoats and strapless numbers riddled with holes
fucking moths little bastards had their turn at all this
and there's a worm in your skin
all that soil on your face was good for something after all
and a decomposing yeast infection of a kiss does nothing for me
not no more the fuck we're we thinking
and we could go on and on about this all day
you're filicide hobby
you're shitfilled voice
you're sewerpipe cunt
but it's nothing new
it's never a damn thing somebody doesn't already know
and these hounds know it themselves
fruitless fucking expedition
shit they'll catch the scent of bitch before anything else
silly courtship bullshit
all them plans panned out for nothing
we didn't strike oil we dug graves
and you begin to rot away
wolves tear out your insides as it dawns
hand in hand
this is my hand in hand
and there will be no escape ©