You cup your palms like shovels always begging for more
I'm tired of working my [bad word] of for you
You spread your thighs and whisper sounding just like a [bad word] Don't [bad word] for more.

You may have tasted my body
but you won't taste my soul
You may have felt your flesh stretching
To the depths of your every hole
You felt liquid and solid
You felt pleasure and fear
You may have felt your flesh stretching
To the depths of your every hole

And if you're all that you claim to be
Then I'm not losing anything
So just stand there upon your knees
And feel the joy of suffering