God unclenched his ass cheeks and out fell my smile. He didn't wipe. I get scared sometimes and start humming the soundtrack to my father's funeral. It goes... and trickles off into the sounds of gravel rocks and shovel heads.

Boom Boom and gentler melodies resonate inside the cadaverous eternity of your vagina. In your pants, time stands still. We grew old, paused there, escaping time, then the microwaved beeped.

Rubbing one out is more like a sneeze when you can actually get a girl.

Sharp dressed skeletons are climbin in boxes, slain by imagined fame.

What do they climb on? What is there to grab onto?
Nothin man, nothin to grab on these walls but old records. My dad listened to these. Why should I?
I want to hold onto a dick on the wall. Those are good and stable and sturdy. Never failed me yet.

You're tangled in glass again
Still, vain fear keeps you thin