Absolute pure poetry
Absolute pure poetry
You intend to reach my stomach?
Serve her a cup of tea after
A dick would make the picture better
Santa brought the right flavours
Tear it and make me tear up
Is it according to your taste, miss?
Her holes are playground for men
Here cums santa!
Why so damn perfect?
She brought the good stuff
I'll stop talking and i'll start doing
You said to do whatever i want