Deleterio Motilis Songtext
von WHY?

After I say I′ll *WHAT* you in the bathroom of the pizza by slice place,
It's not fair for me to ask what kinda wife you might make—
Forbidding you to smoke like the fascist butt of a joke.
That is poor practice for opening the heart to a possible start.

Horn-rimmed Napoleon only in for the week,
On high over the breech, in a speech he′s been preaching since he's been alive.


Jeez, nasty little man,
So fast to show his hand
To any last bastard who's ass is in pants.
The man′s manners, mild, like winters in the south,
Rather odd he might inquire if he can finish in your mouth.

Sex-starved, wrecked, scarred, flesh marred, but best part:
Never bent bars hold men far from fresh start.

At dawn, with Hilton pen, he feels he′ll fall hard.
Yes, in bed the bard tends to pretend he's all heart.