Stomach

Stomach
(c. clay; includes an interpolation of “I’m Gonna Get You” by Bizarre Inc.)

Your stomach has been untouched for too long
It’s time that our spines curled in the same world
Do I have to undo my own zipper for you
It’s time that I screamed like a little girl

(scream like a banshee here)

Cuz God didn’t make our tongues to be wasted
On words or on food or on clucking
I’ve strutted and played for the masquerade
But now it’s time for…

I shouldn’t be left to my own devices
To loving myself when I hit the can
Do I have to scrap with that skinny **** who
Think two little nuts make him a man

If I offend I’m awful sorry
That you’re so sensitive
But you can’t expect my manners would be
Better than the head you give

Now there ain’t a man who exists on this planet
To live without love’s penetration
And if you won’t open up when your belt’s on the ground
It’s my castration

There’s a hole in the bucket dear liza, dear liza
Where there’s a hole I’m gonna f**k it
So don’t be a miser
Art school baby don’t be lazy
Got the biscuits for my gravy
Batting lashes got you far
But slow molasses still gets jarred

I know your man plays innocent
The maestro of nicey-nicey
Yeah he’s so innocent that he’s brain dead
Or will be after he meets me

Now God didn’t give me fists to vent fury
They just take out those who jinx the equation
And then my hands will be free to hold you to me
It’s our salvation

So why waste your time?
You know you’re gonna be mine.