Sweet Of Shopping
Even a butcher goes chopping once in a while, when he feels like picking up some raw beef that is in love or pretty low spirits. Young meat is his virgin canvas created for his expert caprice art.
The best part is, she´s free. Free to chop off my head and … what? Baby, are you kidding me? I´m supposed to be the butcher, I´m asumed and attuned to do what I do best, some slaughterhouse art. Remember? I even sell the catalogue with the same name, just a coincidence for 5 bags, err, to help with the mess. This must be a musteak! Baby, have some mercy on me, I´m smiling at you, I´m so handsome, your hansomest, your yummiest, you´re so pretty, so very pretty. What´s that sudden frown of yours all about? Aaaaah!
OMG, Mrs. Beef aka Young Meat, I had no idea that simply going shopping can be and is an obsessive love and the sacrifices I am willing to do to prove my unconditional love? Phuch, bay bee! Aaaaah! Nope, I´m not screaming, Sydney, Aaaaah, Cidknee!
Hey Scream franchisee butcher, who the hell is Sydney, or CD? I don´t know, I don´t know, I know nothing, I don´t know her, I never did her, I swear, she´s not doable. ´Cause she´s like the capital of Australia, or something, like too promiscuous, you know, everybody wants to sleep with her, even me, I mean excluding me, biatch! Not me, her! ´Cause like her meatgrinder is the best, or something. I don´t want it! What? Nutting, just talking business, honey, I prefer your hysterical blender, above all! N n n all the speeds you master so sKILLfully, n n n everything! Aaaaah!
Wrong answer, capital punishment, now! Phuch, bay bee! Cindy, Cindy, Cindy, SOS, sweet of shopping, save me, ice cream, ice cream, save me, Cumberry, Cranberry, Cumberrah, ah, ah, ah juice, juicy, rasping … Aaaaah! No crickets!
That was fantastic, Tove Lo, chopping never gets old, I´m one shopping mall world to hold, my love. Did you like my Love Ballad? Where I´m singing about how we´ve never been so in love before and how you´ve made the biggest, highest difference in my hole life. We feel like the conspired universe with us in it has changed and that our really unique love is so much more than what our dear Substack people can see or understand.
Chop off my hands
Chop off my feet
I'd do it for you
Ain't love sweet?
Jump off a cliff
I'd give you my last spliff
I'd do it for you
Ain't love sweet?
Stab my heart, bleed it out
If you feel doubt about me loving you
'Cause, oh, I do
Pour gasoline on me
Oh yes, I'd burn slowly
So that you feel, I am for real
'Cause this is my one true sacrifice
It never gets old
No need for you to roll the dice
I'm the one to hold
'Cause this is my one true sacrifice
It never gets old
No need for you to roll the dice
Gets in a fight
If you say it's right
Shoot them all down
Ain't love sweet?
Breathing your air
Addicted I swear
I'll never leave
Ain't love sweet?
Stab my heart, bleed it out
If you feel doubt about me loving you
'Cause, oh, I do
Pour gasoline on me
Oh yes, I'd burn slowly
So that you feel, I am for real
'Cause this is my one true sacrifice
It never gets old
No need for you to roll the dice
I'm the one to hold
'Cause this is my one true sacrifice
It never gets old
No need for you to roll the dice
'Cause I'm the one to hold
'Cause you know I would stab my heart, bleed it out
If you feel doubt about me loving you
'Cause, oh, I do
Pour gasoline on me
You know, I'd burn slowly
So that you feel, I am for real
'Cause this is my one true sacrifice
It never gets old
No need for you to roll the dice
I'm the one to hold
'Cause this is my one true sacrifice
It never gets old
No need for you to roll the dice
While ballads can be about any subject, they always tell a story, especially about a famous person or a VIP love story. They´re also often sad, although they can be heroic, tragic, or comic as well. You´re so overdramatic, baby, detailing your exaggerated ways to show affection to me, your romantically chopped off butcher. Yeah, your new paint guy, lucky me! My critical condition, not critics, crickets, reveals or describes it as an SOS ode to falling freshly and dangerously and beachingly in love with some old butcher and a shopping parody of love torture songs! Stop chopping me, it kinda hurts, phuck, baby! Please!!! Please???
See, that´s why I´ve been trying to raise some fans´ skirts, err, I mean funds, desperately, to take you shopping to the chopping mall, instead of romantically chopping me! Just between us, I love chopping, I´m a butcher, meat is my pool, FYI! Shh, don´t tell anyone, or someone might start craving my meat, and I´d be in serious trouble, you know me, how romantic I am, how my ego and wings wax, under the sacrilegious burden of endlessly tempting sex. You know the melodramatic moment you decide to give everything to another person, to the chosen, the one, how screwed up it is, n n n how you just want to freak out, ´cause you do. ´Cause I do!
There´s a way of telling the one I love I'd do anything for her. She's worth the pain. A bit exaggerated, sure, really brutal, too brutal, but that's what it feels like when you're so into someone, you just go crazy, I´m crazy for you. Not that I wasn´t before, but you know what I mean … the mirror stares back at me. Sanity is your thing, I think. Wait, let me think again! Oh sheet … I lose myself in you, I lean my eyes on you …
It´s a heart-wrenching pop melody, where you´re covered in my black paint, as I´m as guilty as sin, walking in the middle of a road to happiness, me in Love Perrodise. N in the next sex scene, you cover four innocent men in paint, four, my favorite, shh! They just go to play rugby on a damn football field, baby, have some mercy! Your love is too much, thank you, mine is never enough!
Then, you appear wearing a hibiscus dress while singing my song in a rubbish dump. Ah my dress, how I love my dress! I´m so high on watching your sacrificing-me video, how you walk topless through a field of flowers. I´m a thirsty flower. Wait. I´m the Thirsty Flower, I´ve got all the rights, you´re not underage, all legit, baby! Near the end, you´re standing on my 8 football field while the four men, particularly, I object, I protest, I boycott, I don´t like that, run up to you and cover you in paint. WTF! How dare they, rugby players, crickets!
Ah baby, I´m so anxiously interspersed with your sizzling scenes of performing our obscene song with images of cities and explosions, oops, projected onto you. Interspersed between tragic thoughts are a few supplying comic relief. A patchwork of open fields interspersed with copses of pine.
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WILL YOU SUPPORT YOUR SCREAMING, ROMANTICALLY CHOPPED OFF BUTCHER, ERR, POET?
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KO-FI: SOME CAFFEINE DOES NO HARM https://ko-fi.com/liborsoural
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ALL MY STAINED PAST SHEETS:
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THANK YOU!
CRANBERRY? I LOVE YOU BERRRRRY MUCH!!!!!!!!!!