SEXMODE (by SuperPhoneDialer)

The poem in english:

Demolish instead of rebuild,
build new, build more.
Not homes but hotels, rooms with
comfy beds if you got the money:
won the lottery or got a fancy job
that’s not very hard but manly
and you’re cocky as well.

You talk louder than everyone else,
correct wrongs and blame others.
You act like you own your partner
when your going on charter,
hotel with a pool in sunny Grand Canaria,
or Tanzania, a safari would be cool:
unless it’s too dangerous, the lions might eat you;
if you don’t eat them first.

The human race IS superior, no one can deny that
even though our arguments are better
but you can never defend your shit-face opinions
of law and order, we take risks and we will bring you down.

You might think I’m small, smaller than you at least and
I bet you think you can take me down but
FUCK YOU AND EVERYONE LIKE YOU
you can as well go to hell
because last time I checked,
they’re waiting for you down there

Bush Hitler and Thatcher will soon welcome you,
hug you and put salt in the wounds of your soul
that the oppression you’ve caused have given you.
Year after year your soars have become deeper
and infected
all while you’ve used up the resources of the Earth.

You used to believe in something better,
now your acting on habits:
purchasing food, liquor and sex with the magnet strip of your Visa,
comfort before justice, it’s nice and dandy with a slimmed down body
and a nasty dick in my face; you’re not listening to my protests
but I DON’T WANT TO.

There’s nothing WRONG with me,
I just don’t want my hands on your body,
maybe your dick between my teeth:
the blood pumping and squirting out everywhere;
and there you thought you would get to squirt in me
but I put hard against hard and bite your flesh-bone
until you beg for mercy.

But I’m just thinking of all the times that I’ve asked your advice
out of fear that if I decide for myself, take my own initiatives
and act upon them, you wouldn’t accept me:
because I’ve thought wrong, decided wrong and done wrong
while you, all your life have decided for yourself and thus forced
the rest of us into corners of insecurity and so called “wrong doings”.
But that’s all over now.

Now your lying here bleeding to death as the biting accelerates:
your screams echo between the walls in the room
where you thought you would get into my pants, just
as was going to bed.
And I was just about to pull my pants down: for pity’s sake;
poor you who’s hard without ejaculating;
as if I’ve not missed out on an orgasm every time I’ve been horny.
Extremely dull and totally fucked up,
I HATE IT.

As I was saying: In hell they’re holding a spot for you, my friend,
so now when you’re heart stopped beating:
you can finally take it.