say your prayers
to the wind of prostitution
to your faces, and rex complexes
riddle my breast
full of the oppressed puss.

o gentlemen, with your fish
that you surround, all around
and you man, will always point
your fishes at me.

but i will always exist
because i always exist
damn good too

the rat race begins
the fat face stings
i hold the fresh pink baby
with a smile.
i slice off those rosy cheeks
because i feel so thirsty

and oedipus rex complexes
... riddle my closed bloated breast