I give him endless pleasure
But can steal his next generation
He cares for me without measure
But take away my anticipation
I give him sweet kisses all over
But swallow his conscious thought
He folds my wounds into clover
But detach me from what I sought
I give him a few moments of glory
But build him a past with my face
He makes no mistake but say sorry
He takes my leather and turn it into lace
Giving him deplorable judgment each time
Spill his passive-possessive cells onto my navel
He reads a lot into my rhythm and rhyme
But he realizes I eat at my own table
