This is a double fine and mighty sleazy cock rock party metal raunch ballad unearthed from the depths of Hot Sugar's crusty back catelogue. Reading it, even without the g-spot tickling guitars and vaaj loosening drums has increased your fertility 6 fold. You're welcome.
Chorus
Yeah she's my heart shaped peach
Her love was never outta reach
So many sexy things to teach
Damn, she can suck itlike a leech
Verse
Yeah she likes it good
Damn she strokes my wood
On her bosses desk
We do it like we should
Oh! I make her sing
My balls, they are tingling
My faveourite Xmas present
She gave me my brown wings
Breakdown
My heart shaped peach! I love that tasty peach!
Centre made of stone and hairy fuckin' skin
She chows down on my bone until my winky wins
Rep chorus
Verse
Oh, she calls me James
I call her giant peach
From safe sex we refrain
We clean it up with bleach
Yeah rubber fuckin' gloves
Spaff places I can't reach
I pound her tender dove
I'm spent, my heart shaped peach!
Yeah, it starts with a chorus. Get over it, Stalin.
No comments:
Post a Comment