Like a shining trombone
filling a second
tight tits or kisses
meaningless effort
this try to be a guy.
Like a sunset out of the window
collapsed in the sky
like the most beautifull girl face
in the middle of this digital sea
like a hard nipple imaginated
nothing is reaching the effort
of being this try of guy.
Like a juicy steak and its bloody texture
in the bourgeois mouth
the sexual slave
the nippel and the tits
tightened and hard like cold iron
and the desire of being a guy
in this try to be a guy too.
Like a cloud moving to the mountain
the aproach of no one
the sense o no one
the most beatifull girl
that doesn’t exist
and her body
and her mouth
and her hair
and she being a sexual slave
and the bourgeois eating in Manhattan
and me
trying to be a guy.
Nothing is all around
but the silence of these perverted imagination.
And the sexual slave,
the most beautifull girl in the world
doesn’t exist here or anywhere
and the bourgeois is everytime the winner
and I am just trying to be a guy.
Harder, baby, harder please,
broken the remains of my innocence
but please, harder baby, harder, and deeper. Please
I’m no one and nothing is my name
when I’m just trying to be a guy and she
the sexual slave
is the most succulent woman in the world.