A Songs Of Souls

He hears a song of souls, although I'm quiet;
I'd tend to disagree, but do not speak,
Because his fleshly pole tastes rather sweet;
And I am slightly anxious, as my diet
Did not include my cunt juice; but, I'll buy it,
Because, once swallowed, it's less like to reek;
Although his member will enjoy the heat
Of my lips and tongue - they're running riot,
As are the needs of future souls, that won't
Be populating anywhere - save lips
and mouth and throat and gut - poor little seed,
Unless that song of souls means that he slips
Cock from oral enticement; and he'd feed
My sex with his hard member, as he tips
Those singing souls deep in me, so we breed.