kevin bloody wilson - fuck ya guts out lyrics
i -ssumed he was talking to his missus
when i heard him talkin’ on the phone
his huge tattered frame was shakin’ and sobbin’
you could tell he was really missin’ home
this bloke was built like the side of a mountain
and as ugly as a top-end buffalo
standin’ there just blubberin’ like a baby
talkin’ to his woman on the phone
and i heard poetry that night as i listened while he spoke
i heard poetry that night when he said
i’m gonna f-ck ya guts out, an’ i’m never gonna stop
not even when i see ya kidneys wrapped around me c-ck
’cause i’ll just whip it in, whip it out, wipe it on yer frock
i’m gonna f-ck ya guts out, an’ i’m never gonna stop
i’m gonna f-ck ya in the ear, i’m gonna f-ck ya in the nose
then i’ll spin ya on me finger ’til i find another hole
f-ckin’ h-ll, forgot me hanky, and i’m about to blow
hang on while i let go of the phone
i’m gonna f-ck ya guts out, an’ i’m never gonna stop
not even when i see ya kidneys wrapped around me c-ck
’cause i’ll just whip it in, whip it out, wipe it on yer frock
i’m gonna f-ck ya guts out, an’ i’m never gonna stop
nice frock
i -ssumed i was talkin’ to his missus
when he begged me to hang on to the phone
he needed both hands to w-nk with
and i didn’t mind waitin’ on
and i swear i was listenin’ to a princess
as pure as the soft driven snow
and instantly i knew she was missin’ him too
as i listened to her sweet ‘n dulcet tones
and i heard poetry that night as i listened while she spoke
i heard poetry that night when she said
i’m gonna suck ya guts out, make ya sorry that ya asked
when ya see yer pillow ‘n mattress disappearin’ up yer -ss
i practiced on the tractor ’til i f-cked the b-st-rd’s starter
i’m gonna suck ya guts out, make ya sorry that ya asked
i’m on the rags, but that don’t matter; you can whack it up me clacker
can hardly wait to feel that monster d-ck
you can beat me, whip me, hurt me when yer on the verge of spurtin’
rip off me shirt ‘n slam dunk on me t-ts
and then i’ll suck ya guts out, make ya sorry that ya asked
when ya see yer pillow ‘n mattress disappearin’ up yer -ss
i practiced on the tractor ’til i f-cked the b-st-rd’s starter
i’m gonna suck ya guts out, make ya sorry that ya asked
and i heard poetry that night as i listened while they spoke
there was poetry that night in the air
i’m gonna f-ck ya guts out just as soon as i get home
instead of gettin’ our rocks off talkin’ dirty on the phone
jackin’ off, and jillin’ off, and whackin’ off alone
i’m gonna f-ck ya guts out just as soon as i get home
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