Haute Suture

Bring them to the pond Where your fowl shits Ill-fitted crotch Paid a fuck for it You long for the mud Not your mud You gawk at it You'd fuck it You're worse than it Fucked to feel what it is to be meat Booboise! Balanciaga! Lick my dirt pits Orange peel tits Stench of grace Fuck your face This ain't your sex mat This ain't your slum flat You're all just fine So why are you crying? You want tragic Nothing's tragic It's so tragic Hey, you dissonant clump! Go grab a Vitton cock bag And we can have lunch At Rana Plaza, okay? They look so pretty Being broken and ripe Avoid the stench And the eyes But that's not what gets you off about that