The love of Eve
Has made many a slave,
Adam got deceived by her gift,
Today we enjoy our ancestral sin.
Lust isn\'t love;
And love isn\'t lust,
Eyes feast on what they see,
Untamed libido the driving force.
Singles and married
are stuck,
Lust lives in many hearts,
Though pretense may cover it.
Many boxers wet,
To the imaginations of their hearts,
Some hardly sleep,
Without sucking nipples.
Many dreams aborted,
From the sweetness of thighs,
Some scream in sadness,
While their families are starving.
There\'s no glory in the thighs,
Whether you scream or shout,
Though a sweet sin,
Sin deflects your glory and dreams,
Eschew or convey your cross of misery.