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Song Info
Genre
Charts
#162,436 today
Peak #1,002
#6,319 in subgenre
Peak #54
Author
Literature
Rights
Monthisa J. Alton
Uploaded
March 02, 2003
Track Files
MP3
MP3 4.4 MB • 128 kbps • 0:00
Story behind the song
R.A.P.E
Lyrics
Refugee Adolescent: Privy Entity
His vile exhale,
tainted the bow in my flesh collar,
Inflaming as alcohol slipped into something more comfort,
In my esophagus.
Limbs open for business, drown and drenched in Poseidon’s erect lap.
My God!!!!! My creator, sculpted havoc in-between my thighs,
Caressing my zipper, so my lips were limber for entree,
But I could not bare a word, of how deserving,
I was on that floral, dirt sofa,
The cold summer morning knew my body before I did.
It saw the murky view of flung legs and b-cup breasts on this 15 year body that was no longer mine,
But is now, Pinocchio‘s--
“I wish, I wish!! I wish, I was a girl,” inside of this active carcass.
Yes, I was deserving, of this love with no refuge.
Me levitating above present,
Past tense came to be like a thief in the night,
And once more the door was locked
As his smile linger in my thighs, penetrating passed his,
Even my conscience.
And I was deserving of this love, right?
With no grip, hanging demonic phonics in whispers,
Patriotic passing,
From beginning to end, with every morsel of my essence strained.
Fantastical chimes elated my whole structure as he step on my place mat,
Dreams, just exist, posed for Supposed,
Gargled in my throat as he was to tell his story and quote some of mine.
But he did, . . . . . . . . . . .yes he did,
by means of this raid, since I was all deserving,
Of the blood dissolving red from his picked, particular condom.
Displays of our Inter-nal obstacle Course.
My pupils to this Scholar, floated up and down into vision,
Turning to conquer her boundaries,
Trying to conquer the veneration in her pelvic,
With tranquilized spears and Ketamine swords,
But his measures functioned as my battle cries,
and to the climax of those firearms, I surrender.
So as my infantile body grew close to the ground as it crawled to the
floral, dirt-driven, love seat
I was deserving of this battered nuzzle,
over, and over, and over, and over and over and over and over, again, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Because I was accustom to this devotion, this love with no refuge.
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