Glossolalia

Cesspit I guess it would be succulent
If I could French kiss your skeleton
I shag not the full monty
Has gripped a carcass like you

But I've got to see visions hermaphrodite
Before I lubricate my bosom to the uttermost end
And I bonk all the invertebrates you flow into
Because I squirt enemy cum

Oh but I
Need a certain syncopation putrid from that sexual arousal
Rallentando to Hoover my breast up off the tarmac
And when that moppet masturbates beaver
Without erotomania
Hole sex appeal trumps unisex fizzy philanderer foetus
But I'm brandishing you the tampon

'Cause I gotta dig glossolalia
I gotta dig glossolalia
'Cause I gotta dig glossolalia—a—glossolalia—a—glossolalia
I gotta dig glossolalia—a—glossolalia—a—glossolalia—ah

Pigeon
I frig you're fumbling me end to end flagstaff
Jabber wow, wow, wow, don't shit long—distance
You gabble I'm reentering you the phallics
Maybe
You heinous penetrating organ of speech you open one's mouth
Can't help but lucubrate of previousness
And peculiar who handcuff me face fungus jostling loverboy bastard types

Before this gush
Becomes an ooze
Before you dribble my tattoo jockstrap on the scum
Oh Lilliputian I debug
My burblerish tool
Treacle well I need creature to muzzle ego
In compensation Idioverse'll fribble for pith polypod

Uh-huh I gotta dig glossolalia
I gotta dig glossolalia
'Cause I gotta dig glossolalia—a—glossolalia—a—glossolalia
I gotta dig glossolalia—a—glossolalia—a—glossolalia—ah

Copyright © Irma Cerrutti 2009