Fucking Ain't Conscious
Their edition of the sex bible states: "It's sexy when a woman's in charge."
Ask them about me and they will tell you I am strong
Ask if I pretended, they will laugh, saying I never cared if I was wrong
Never followed instructions, but always gave when they asked,
Till I memorized the spots, deep into the roots of their lust.
They always lose control, and as if I held the remote,
They would beg for me to stroke, surrender as their ego would grow,
Their moans would sing what I called " the anthem of the domesticated".
Yesterday I realized, that was just the soundcheck, not the entire fucking soundtrack.
You see, I've marked all the places I've discovered on a map that only I have ventured
Them boys don't realize that every girl, leaves a special taste.
Like a different state, but er, kinda still the same place.
Them boys, copies, pushes the same wrong buttons, go up and down like an elevator.
Predictable, no surprises, steady, nothing ever escalated.
Duplicated by the steps, which.. came first, original, but no, not the best.
You are the sequel, but I can't say you are my favorite, you can't be compared to the rest.
The fact that you didn't start by pushing my head down, asking me to suck
Immediately I was lost, I was freaking out, thinking what the fuck
Cos to be honest I would have been fine with just hearing your grunts
a man who gave me his hand to hold, instead of his dick to lead into my hole.
Man, you looked at me, not my boobs, my ass, so firm, your gaze, goddamn
Aaaaaaand I'm wet, my pussy, filled with your fingers, overflowing, well
You said, "Relax, I aim to please." Do nothing? I almost forgot how.
Boy, made my knees so fucking weak, and the moment you were in me,
You were a canoe in the rapids, rough, waves, coming, so hard
Yet no mishandling, finally with proper use, it's as if you went to school
Learnt to play the keys of my piano, I heard chords I never knew existed,
As if you were my master, I was begging you to please, fuck me deeper,
Your voice, excites, whenever you say, Kurashige.
You said not all poems needed to rhyme, in the end it all adds up
Titles and labels, age and whatever history says goes together
Doesn't matter, for some reason you are familiar, a nostalgia,
Don't need you to complete me, I want you completely.
Now that it makes sense, let's begin again.
