legions of sex slaves have flocked in my calls
you are the most grotesque of them all
warts and protrusions the beg for the grave
the live to gobble the puss form my warts
i live to spread my disease at each port
distribute knob-cheese like some soup della-mort
you are born in the most disgusting of ways
others spend their money trying to become that way
you think you are beautiful but what the hell is that
i find beauty in rolls of sweaty fat
that gives me an erection
your beauty makes me sick
you spend hours smearing cream on your face
what you need is to be hit with a mace
tied to a horse and get dragged through the streets
hung by the heels and pelted with belts
but still you are smearing cream on your face
what you need is to be reduced to paste
wander the countryside blind in one eye
sucking the dicks of dead dogs to survive
who decides what is beautiful?
i find fascination as your guts are turned to stew
all you are is brains and bones