RootGarden.com

 
 

 

Spiritual Honey Ignites Town

   
 

I like my women loose,

   
 

Smooth as shit through a goose;

   
 

Listen! Klop! Klop! Klop-klop!

   
 

Come close, my Hershey drop.

   
 

Come here, you bathroom face—

   
 

Now why in the first place

   
 

did you ever leave me?

   
 

Is my reality

   
 

Some sort of counterfeit?

   
 

Kloppity! Dit-dit-Dit!

   
 

Come here you piss and shit.

   
 

You've got the damnedest look—

   
 

Hope you don't get mistook

   
 

For what you were before,

   
 

What kids would call a whore,

   
 

Or better yet, a wimp!

   
 

Not talking? You can primp

   
 

Until the cows come home,

   
 

Or bend over and roam

   
 

With a "Moo" of your own.

   
 

Men like it when you moan—

   
 

Makes 'em ejaculate.

   
 

I wouldn't hesitate

   
 

Putting you out for hire,

   
 

Pubescent little liar.

   
 

Klop! Kloppity! She cries!

   
 

Go ahead! Roll your eyes.

   
 

You're very talented.

   
 

My friend who saw her said

   
 

Your mom looks like a crow.

   
 

Is that the way you'll go?

   
   
   
   
   
   
 

You really dig this act,

   
 

Don't you? Matter-of-fact,

   
 

Let's us go from the house

   
 

Without a shirt or blouse

   
 

Spoiling anyone's view...

   
 

Wait. Is your bra askew?

   
 

That's fine. Who needs a bra!

   
 

How 'bout a camera

   
 

to catch our moonlight cruise—

   
 

What happened to your shoes?

   
 

Ladies in dishabille

   
 

Ought to wear their high-heel...

   
 

Whoa there, honey. That's it.

   
 

Klop! Klop! Klop-klop! Dit-dit!

   
 

But I don't think you need

   
 

That last shred. Stallions breed

   
 

When naked sluts are loose.

   
 

We don't want an excuse

   
 

For what's bound to happen

   
 

With your titties flappin'...

   
 

Kloppity! Klop! Klop! Klop!

   
 

Amazing! But no fair

   
 

Taking a key. Your bare

   
 

Necessities belong

   
 

With me. So come along.

   
 

(Lest you think I'm a rogue,

   
 

Shaven sex is in vogue)

   
 

Nice, eh? How can you fault

   
 

Creamy pepper and salt?

   
 

I love girls who don't stop.

   
 

Kloppity! Klop! Klop! Klop!