We Hit It Off, It's The Shit (Or Get Off The Pot)

and oh how I'd die inside you
a climax insighted by your sweetness, my sweet death
caressing you with every hot breath and every warm kiss
since the only spin the bottle that I've been playing
is where the bottle just spins right to my lips and I drink her down

shit, if I could combine the two things that I love the most
I'd order you on the rocks with a twist
and toast to the beginning of a better life, a better lie
with red death and car bombs, this and that's
Long Island Iced Teas and Manhattans
the only things I like about New York and this city
your taste is that sweet and it kills the cells that it needs to
I hurry up and drink it down

so I hope you're getting as dizzy as me
because I don't know what to do next, I'm just hoping it's final
or maybe not final but a least finally more than just sex
because I'm ready to get over this three year hangover of apathy
my vacation of this breakdown
where I drank them all down and let them all go down on me

just remember: swallow hard and swallow fast
man-o man-o cheviots