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Yellow eyes take the back seat when I
Curse away those warm hands
With forked tongues
Black eyes
And red lips
Be careful when you compare hit with hand and fist with hand
Because you don't know shit your eyes are bad so how 'bout a game around with this little she-devil
He gulps now at this replaces fist with hand to cool
The hotness high on his scalp returning to badness and age
Running away from being skinned he who loses lips dies slow sad and young
And will not know the high shelled stitch between his legs and damp throat between his eyes and hot throat
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