Testo: Wild Beasts. She Purred, While I Grrred.

Her fruit was ripe, I bit
Her fruit was ripe, I bit
I?m nothing more than a humble mongrel
whippet cast, rash and unabashed

Her fruit was ripe, I bit
Her fruit was ripe, I bit
pungent juice wept from the bruise
where the skin was sluice and slobbered on

though the meat was fleshy and sweet?
she purred, while I grrred

I die every day, to live every night
under the industry of her want for me in our fusty foundry
please no ceremony, I want she, I want she, not matrimony

My fruit was ripe, she bit
My fruit was ripe, she bit
in her belly lay a pip
a?brooding in the oozing

My fruit was ripe, she bit
My fruit was ripe, she bit
huffing and puffing on the mattress stuffing
upon the bunk a fervent funk

in my butcher?s hands her soft fruit tendered, She never pretended?
she purred while, I grrred

I die every day, to live every night
under the industry of her want for me in our fusty foundry
please no ceremony, I want she for laundry, I want she so I?m not lonely
I want she, I want she, not matrimony