Dreams

Hey Skippy tell me your dreams
and I'll watch from the sidelines
while she creams
to your eyes, your nose, the curls on your head
I'll forget why I'm alive
and stop wishing to be dead.
He came loaded with a shot gun
a sword between my legs
molten hot lava
somebody else's  scene.
His guilt destroys the mountain
and the happiness he can't feel
has become my bottom's up
trying to get to the real.
Will he stop pretending
this is what he wants?
His paper cut out moves
the crazy way he grooves
Makes me want to bottle up
the smell between my legs
he left me as a gift.
Play it down some
play it up some
play it sideways some
make me cum
with those crazy fingers
that mushroom cloud
the poison in the air
the way you make me laugh out loud.
Head down
but I know you can see
every part of me
you keep running
maybe I'll catch up.