There is avocado under my naked feet
The skin is soft and warm
Gives off the taste of meat
A sussysloot sashays into sight to be engaged
Involuntary celibates are impotent in silent rage

The poors hoard what leaks they seize
"Cope, dilate, and seethe"
Each clip and image are free if you lurk moar
There's no hiding behind paywalls
Just a manwhore to adore

The paypigs pore the floor in the porous fleshy corridor
On my second sight of simples, far more thirsty than before
They're heading in heat to a writhing, fetid crack
Where the coinslot's eye is winking, closing on their backs
The 'Cado Coomers feed their Boomer:
>We've got to get him to get off
>We've got to get him to get off
>We've got to get him to get off

There's only One Direction in the music that I hear
It's coming from the ceiling, where the fans are drawing near
Like a concert fight for stage sight, that takes place with every stan
They are pulled up by their oshi, believing in the plan
The 'Cado Coomers feed their Boomer:
>We've got to get him to get off
>We've got to get him to get off
>We've got to get him to get off

Mild-mannered mukbangers are force-fed through the night
And the based and boipilled evaders post with their bodies glowing bright
'Tween the cheeks a chungus feast is splayed across the sky
In the chasm lies a cavern that quivers with delight
The 'Cado Coomers feed their Boomer:
>We've got to get him to get off
>We've got to get him to get off
>We've got to get him to get off

The polyethylene powerchair with failing frame fears collapse
And the only fans pay per their view, they charge back all they lack
The liquid has congealed, which has seeped out through the crack
And now Niko's got his boyfriend back :)
The 'Cado Coomers feed their Boomer:
>We've got to get him to get off
>We've got to get him to get off
>We've got to get him to get off