I had the verbal touch
The silver sliver of nexus
Carved from the bloody water
First-poured
Form drowning
Pulling down the moons and suns
From the thighs of the queen
Of grace and grinding
The bump, the bribe, the breasts
Made me slyly arise
In clouds of candy
Tanks of flies
The silver sliver of nexus
Carved from the bloody water
First-poured
Form drowning
Pulling down the moons and suns
From the thighs of the queen
Of grace and grinding
The bump, the bribe, the breasts
Made me slyly arise
In clouds of candy
Tanks of flies
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