here we are
the children of Peroxide
and Nicotine
making out
for every camera
you could ever dream
of
“little gal
this distance
is killin’ me”
the hounds haven’t been fed for days
now they’re howlin’
like the couple of gays
we met last saturday
your skin tastes
so soft
under my lips
kisses from Kiev
lofts
all the way to your hips
