I fantasize I'm dressed in tattered strands.

Prisoner to his warm breath,

my deference his demand.

This frail girl waits for [bad word] 

Held in his cell, I only can submit.

My face in his hands, it's pleasure I'll admit!

My utopia is dystopia.

I fantasize my body on the ground.

I wait for [bad word]  one less of me around.

He breaks me down while ignoring my tears.

This purifying pain reinforces my fears.

Now I stop feeling and wide eyed I see reality.

I no longer can deny my desire.

Push me when I protest, only if it pleases you.

Hold me so tenderly, use me as I need you to.

In my utopia, oh I crave this dystopia.

And I ran out here to find myself. To have a little conversation with that God you're always talking to. And I got myself spun around, and I'm lost and it's getting dark. He's [bad word] down here to help me, nor tell me what I need to know.

And I'm gonna die out here in these [bad word]  woods.

And I'm gonna die out here in these [bad word]  woods.

And I'm gonna die out here in these [bad word]  woods.

And I'm gonna die out here in these [bad word]  woods.

And I'm gonna die out here in these [bad word]  woods.

And I'm gonna die out here in these [bad word]  woods.