Grinding Process

I think you tryin' to tear But I stick with her spit Keep thinking comic lines Of those less fortunate I must exterminate The lucky haunted few With my lottery. My fingers need it back It curls around her neck She chokes her dying breath And blows it in my face Her sticky ploppy sticks To my more waiting flesh And blood runs from her mouth For my last kiss to taste For my last kiss to taste I know that it's wrong But I'm waiting to see How very long I can keep up the pace.