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Bermuda Triangle
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When I tie myself in red |
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at attention near the foot |
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Where I put the privilege |
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of loving you, watching you |
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How I screw my body, twist |
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to get loose, my dick bigger |
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While you trigger another |
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erotic shot, or phone up |
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Whose turn to bone up freezes |
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my deliciously hung watch |
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And why your soft crotch only |
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inches from penetration |
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Whatever liberation |
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brings is nothing to being |
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