I’ve got no intention of this goin’ down easy.
fuck
fuck
fuck this
[i hope you’re cravin’ somethin’ sensational,
‘cause i got lightnin’ lips ‘n fingertips,
just itchin’ to get to the meat of you]
{I hope you’re cravin’ somethin’ confrontational,
’cause I got this jackhammer heart,
pumpin’ blood to exoskeleton fists.}
fuck
fuck
fuck this
[i want limbs splayed,
breath spread thin,
sweat drippin’ down]
{I need teeth-marks,
‘n bruises, ‘n scratches,
‘n little red marks that don’t turn blue for days}
fuck
fuck
fuck this
I got this twister rippin’ up my guts,
swirlin’ me ’round.
I got no idea which way’s up.
[your lips on mine,
your breath in mine,
your body against mine]
{skin smackin’ skin,
bone slammed bone,
I need this tonight}
fuck
fuck
fuck this
bring the damn whiskey,
–I’ve got no intention of rememberin’ this
ain’t no reason,
ain’t no god damn reason,
it don’t have to be like this,
it don’t
it don’t
it don’t
i don’t want to be here,
i don’t want to watch this
fuck
fuck
fuck this
fuck me,
i need the release ’cause i’m full-brimmed-burstin’,
ain’t no reason,
full-brimmed-burstin’
fuck this
(ain’t she been through enough?
ain’t there anything I can do to fix this?)
I’ve got no intention of this goin’ down easy.
I got a 60 round championship goin’ on in me,
‘n I need you to ref the match.
(i–i–i just want her to be alright,
she deserves that,
don’t she deserve that?
ain’t cancer–ain’t cancer enough?
dammit god, ain’t it enough?)
