JLLY writes a song, pt. 2
it's cold on the iceberg
perfection creeps in slowly
when you keep your eyes on the door
and it won' be so holy,
as you might have thought before
I'm so slimy and perverted
and all of me is hurting
won't you take my greasy hand
won't you call me your grossest man?
I sputter and I spit that
the catholic church would not approve
of our relationship
because you aborted it
I've hit the bait right on
and my grimy ventricles are caught
and when finally i see the dawn
I realize what crime the stars have wrought
I'm so slimy and perverted
and all of me is hurting
won't you take my greasy hand
can't i be your most disgusting man?
my heart is pox'd
and my soul's unlocked
and I'm oozing out
and I wonder about those love songs,
who you sing them about
if he's tall and long
or maybe he's just clean
it's got a hardline for my heartstrings,
but playing god makes you horny,
up until the telephone rings
and you tell me that i'm deforming
I'm so slimy and perverted
and all of me is hurting
won't you take my greasy hand
can't i be your most disgusting man?
some people age like others burn
but we're all decaying
and as my last thread is fraying,
try not to be too concerned
and my words are dripping
black ink past your ears
and can't i just endear
myself before i hear a ripping
-snap-