Rotgut

In the scrotum of your dreams

You turn your first trick for free

Cocktails, catnip and cocaine

I doubt you'll be in the hot rain

Make a thick squeal

When you cop a feel

It rots your gut but that's not enough for you

Induce the red morning sun

I spit on the cock of passion

My heart beating in your head

An angel there in the front bed

Sweet honeycomb and lockjaw

Sting like a bee and say aah

Two cats that hung each of our lies

Build it cause soon we're more chaste