05-30-2014, 11:45 AM
To much free time I suppose
I play my quaker instant oaten flute
And blow a fibrous tune that reeks of sense
I flow a fecund stream of Hershey squirts
And one by one I soil my breeches brown
You can smell them wafting now in summer
When heat has crusted up my chocolate bursts
Too far away from modern sewer use
I cast away enameled porcelain tombs
And freely squeeze my body's crowning boons.
O, manic glee to smear my scent with ease
Bequeathing my repasts into the grass
And picking up a blade to wipe my ass
I ask you have you ever dropped a load
amidst the crowds in a bathroom at the beach
Have you ever felt the sandy concrete
that sticks between your naked wriggling toes
and heard the coffee comets hit the bowls
the prudish onanist will never hear
this clinking sound of flesh against the tin
I play my quaker instant oaten flute
And blow a fibrous tune that reeks of sense
I flow a fecund stream of Hershey squirts
And one by one I soil my breeches brown
You can smell them wafting now in summer
When heat has crusted up my chocolate bursts
Too far away from modern sewer use
I cast away enameled porcelain tombs
And freely squeeze my body's crowning boons.
O, manic glee to smear my scent with ease
Bequeathing my repasts into the grass
And picking up a blade to wipe my ass
I ask you have you ever dropped a load
amidst the crowds in a bathroom at the beach
Have you ever felt the sandy concrete
that sticks between your naked wriggling toes
and heard the coffee comets hit the bowls
the prudish onanist will never hear
this clinking sound of flesh against the tin
