Well here we go again,
Still drunk from last night’s congress,
I feel fresh energy to hate you.
Middle finger, middle finger up.
If only you weren’t around,
I think I’d start seeing
Visions of pure ecstasy,
No hands, no plush; vibrations of reality.
I get high, I feel frustrated.
How I need a release
From your prudent constant constraining.
Building up, building up
Are my torturous self-ministrations.
Thinking of others, betraying you in thoughts,
I destroy you in mine mind,
With such a release, and what a blinding force.
Tsunami, tsunami fall over me,
Swimming in this pleasure I can finally be.