Bobby Elvis

High and drunk and crying into your chest
About problems with my old man
And my terms with death

Even though you're not dead yet.
All I can remember is seeing the outline of your round old stomach in the dark
And hear the struggle in your breath

I was was high
This is not acceptable.

Put your fingers in my cunt and make me forget
The fact that you can't get it hard
And I can't care less

Now you think were lovers
Star crossed and confessed
In fate and serendipity
Because this is the way that old men like you, always think of girls like me
Now you think we're meant to be.

I was drunk
This is not acceptable.

and I was high
This is not acceptable

and I was upset

And where it starts it ends and thats for the best.