I try too much, my dear to shove it down
my throat and in my back but you
dance to my sadist inside of me the frown
its for my eyes you've lost my view
you can't be thrown by my loss of your gaze
I'm chasing mistresses below your neck
my eyes my gut my fist all match the haze
I can't decide whether I wish a check
on scrubbing blood from in between the gaps
of tile floor or brushing hair with one
hand and same is patching up the pants and traps
walking away with sin that finally makes a ton
you really should have hidden what was yours
cause now the fuzz will have to scrub the floor
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