Miss Stake

you drive a stake into the ground. Rather sturdy, pretty solid seems to work out all around Feels nearly flawless But now it's done, the stake is removed Like a smoking gun It leaves a very deep wound In soil that’s never been turned Before a stake is driven into it Try to fill the hole it burned With the things that’ll never fit Nothing but thy lovely stake Can perfectly fill the rip That she chose to create But why should I feel toyed? I don't have feelings, right? Because I’m just a fuck boy Yeah. That really bites.