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Down through the viscous countryside |
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I drag my luscious mountain bride |
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My golden skin inflates with pride |
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And Grace reveals her need |
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Down through the foetid undergrowth |
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The phantom belly of the sloth |
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It's either him or you or both |
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When Grace reveals her need |
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What clutters towards us |
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What clutters towards us |
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Scattering the parrots and loosening the leaves |
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The priestess knows he will not miss |
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The pistons churn and the follicles hiss |
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But is it agony or bliss? |
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When Grace reveals her need |
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What clutters towards us |
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What clutters towards us |
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Scattering the parrots and loosening the leaves |
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No greater form of life is known |
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Than she stark white and on the bone |
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I lay her on the bridal stone |
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And Grace reveals her need |
