Come home

I have a wife.
She’s so tired, and we don’t talk.
We come together, but we walk alone.
In our bed, it is so cold,
I feel I’m frozen to the bone.

Sometimes I fly away from this hell,
To feel much better, to feel well
Forget these things I wouldn’t know
And she asks me to come home.

But I won’t.

I want fresh pussies sit down on my dick.
I want to fuck seven girls in a week.
To party hard until someone will say:
“They dude! We’re out of cocaine”

Turned off my phone. I don’t want her calls.
Don’t want to see how our marriage falls.
Don’t want to be on the frontline
And fight for sins that aren’t mine,

Apologize for what I’ve done,
To split with her if I’ve got some,
To love again and love her more,
Just like it was before…


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