Love is an acid that slithers down the back of your throat & disintergrates every good flesh into a nothingness of gases
A melody, a jam, a beat, a rythm, a clash of instruments and Cupids harp heard by the long awaiting mases
Who would'de guessed it's in rohypnol that angelic son of b**ch dips his pretty little darts
Such a blind sighted trickster, a femme fatal, a dog, a ladies man all robbing peoples tender hearts
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