she is simple surbubian
princess made of peaches
and cream pies she stares
at her mama each day
wanting to be just like her
with her caramel skin and
warm smiles no wonder
flies stick to her thighs
he is a lonely prince
with blood on his
palms (palms i long
to hold) he shows no
remorse as he chops
up her fingers and
she lets him because
she wants him to kiss
her like she's made of
gooey liquid on a
tropical summer day
Because I'm me, and he's him and that's why it'll never work, so stop asking
