Coming Back To You

Am I just another cheap fuck?
Something you don’t have to pay for,
But is used just the same as a Prostitute,
The word love used without a meaning,
Bodies touching in an unholy way,

Getting sweaty, clenching for dear life,
No emotion, no pay,
Another day, another fuck,
No marriage binding us together,
But I can still feel you on top of me,

Like two masters of dance,
We go in knowing what we are doing,
We’ve done it for years,
Mastering the art,
I want love, you want a fuck,

Relieving the stress,
With every bounce, every kiss, every thrust,
Every scream,

Thousands go down the hole,
On every Hotel we’ve gone to,
On every room we’ve fouled,
On every Wine Bottle we’ve downed,

No man complains like this, every man likes a fuck,
But one day we all must grow up,
Want something more,
Even when it is too late,

I yell,
I love you!
You yell,
Harder!

I yell,
Marry me!
You yell,
Fuck me!

I guess I am just another cheap fuck,
Pounding into you,
With every dollar burned on a condom,
With every scratch on my back, every bite on my neck,
I still find myself coming back to you,
For that fuck, for that hour of love,
Coming back to you.