Rope - Keith LeBlanc remix
Don't you know what you could do for me
With one thin rope?
Don't you know what you could do for me
With one more stroke?
Don't you know what your heaving breath
Does for this burnt swelling flesh?
Don't you know how I feel with your
Fingers around my neck?
Pass me the rope
The burn is intense
I'm starting to choke
The yearning relents
Like a pig in a poke
I've hurt and I've hoped
Well I lie for the life of me
The biles at the back of my throat
There's a bloated germ in my belly
That yearns for one small slit
Therein this writhing sperm
This blow off in the grit
Pass me the rope
The burn is intense
I'm starting to choke
The yearning relents
Like a pig in a poke
I've hurt and I've hoped
Well I lie for the life of me
The biles at the back of my throat
I don't need no one to tell me nothing
I can take myself in my own good time
I met my maker when I met my mother
Not the seven bribes of Christ
Don't trespass on my patience
Your eyes are bigger than your belly
Like the letter of the law
Like the ulcerating sore
I'm sucking on the stick that stinks
Pass me the rope
The burn is intense
I'm starting to choke
The yearning relents
Like a pig in a poke
I've hurt and I've hoped
Well I lie for the life of me
The biles at the back of my throat
With one thin rope?
Don't you know what you could do for me
With one more stroke?
Don't you know what your heaving breath
Does for this burnt swelling flesh?
Don't you know how I feel with your
Fingers around my neck?
Pass me the rope
The burn is intense
I'm starting to choke
The yearning relents
Like a pig in a poke
I've hurt and I've hoped
Well I lie for the life of me
The biles at the back of my throat
There's a bloated germ in my belly
That yearns for one small slit
Therein this writhing sperm
This blow off in the grit
Pass me the rope
The burn is intense
I'm starting to choke
The yearning relents
Like a pig in a poke
I've hurt and I've hoped
Well I lie for the life of me
The biles at the back of my throat
I don't need no one to tell me nothing
I can take myself in my own good time
I met my maker when I met my mother
Not the seven bribes of Christ
Don't trespass on my patience
Your eyes are bigger than your belly
Like the letter of the law
Like the ulcerating sore
I'm sucking on the stick that stinks
Pass me the rope
The burn is intense
I'm starting to choke
The yearning relents
Like a pig in a poke
I've hurt and I've hoped
Well I lie for the life of me
The biles at the back of my throat
Credits
Writer(s): Raymond George Watts
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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