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| Pig The Swining Rope Don't you know what you could do for me With one thin rope? Don't you know what you could do for me With one more stroke? Don't you know what your heaving breath Does for this burnt swelling flesh? Don't you know how I feel with your Fingers around my neck? Pass me the rope The burn is intense I'm starting to choke The yearning relents Like a pig in a poke I've hurt and I've hoped Well I lie for the life of me The biles at the back of my throat There's a bloated germ in my belly That yearns for one small slit Therein this writhing sperm This blow off in the grit Pass me the rope The burn is intense I'm starting to choke The yearning relents Like a pig in a poke I've hurt and I've hoped Well I lie for the life of me The biles at the back of my throat I don't need no one to tell me nothing I can take myself in my own good time I met my maker when I met my mother Not the seven bribes of Christ Don't trespass on my patience Your eyes are bigger than your belly Like the letter of the law Like the ulcerating sore I'm sucking on the stick that stinks Pass me the rope The burn is intense I'm starting to choke The yearning relents Like a pig in a poke I've hurt and I've hoped Well I lie for the life of me The biles at the back of my throat |
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