I have a thought, a tiny little thing
And I want to squeeze it till it pops,
You can blot the puss up afterwards.
It really is bothering me, this thought
It kind of itches, because I don’t know where it came from.
And I don’t really understand it.
there, emptying itself unto me.
I think you should get rid of it
Check your watch and meet me here.
I want to infect it and lick it off from the bottom of your shoe,
Where you know you’d like me to be.
You’d like me to lick the bottom of your shoe more than even licking your dick, I bet.
I bet you’re a glass house with huge, tall, open doors.
I bet you can see my organs. Why not, when all I can see are yours.