The Only Thing You’re Good At Is Getting Fucked, Literally. Written by: Jim J. Barakat You’ve got a mess on your hands. You need to fix this up soon. You need to stop letting these things run into you. I’m a phone call away. Maybe my body could suffice for addictions you left behind; I threw them all in motion. Take me up through the nose. Let me dissolve in your blood. Get wired off my love. That should be enough. Your body is my own. What you do hurts me. So baby just keep it clean. I won’t ask you again. I’ve got a mess on my hands. I need to fix this up soon. I need to stop letting these things almost ruin me. There’s a friend who’s a phone call away; tonight her body should suffice for the needs I want from you without all the mess. Take me up through the nose. Let me dissolve in your blood. Get wired off my love. That should be enough. Your body is my own. What you do hurts me. So baby just keep it clean. I won’t ask you again. ©2008
