deepundergroundpoetry.com
drinking games
My heart felt felicitations
or her hand-felt masturbation
It's really all the same
of a saturday night drinking game
Then i see what she's doing
under the table
I look back
But there's no pillar of salt
Maybe that's just a story
To scare us from sin
But i'd rather ask her to let me in.
or her hand-felt masturbation
It's really all the same
of a saturday night drinking game
Then i see what she's doing
under the table
I look back
But there's no pillar of salt
Maybe that's just a story
To scare us from sin
But i'd rather ask her to let me in.
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