Amy, sweet lewd Amy...
The way she moans, it's so obscene
Whether she's crying or complaining aloud,
And the way she's getting beaten, it's arousing
I cannot differ the sounds anymore,
They all seem like a relentless buzzing discomfort
f** this treacherous imagination of mine,
If you only knew the complexity of the scenarios emerging from there
It feels like a bad soap-opera, yet you cannot help yourself from watching the next episode
She must be so beautiful; I guess that is why I hate her and her voice that much
The mystery, of her real self, is far more interesting than actually knowing
Introspection, yes I do fear its return
It has forced me to review most of the basics concerning females
I hear them, again and again, throughout the night
I don't remember the last time I slept,
And I'm not feeling well, here, alone with my thoughts...
Staring at a blank wall
Battered and bruised, bleeding on the floor
Worthless piece of meat, I know she's crushed
But I am useless, unable to save her, and maybe I don't want to
Oh how I beg for complete silence...