On the Asymptotic Nature of Longing

On the Asymptotic Nature of Longing Fist goes in Fist goes out Fist now smells of Rotten trout Fists goes in Something split Fists now smells of Blood and shit My fists are now Brown and red This prostitute Is nearly dead Into her mouth I do a wee Then throw her in The fucking sea On the Asymptotic Nature of Longing Fist goes in Fist goes out Fist now smells of Rotten trout Fists goes in Something split Fists now smells of Blood and shit My fists are now Brown and red This prostitute Is nearly dead Into her mouth I do a wee Then throw her in The fucking sea On the Asymptotic Nature of Longing Fist goes in Fist goes out Fist now smells of Rotten trout Fists goes in Something split Fists now smells of Blood and shit My fists are now Brown and red This prostitute Is nearly dead Into her mouth I do a wee Then throw her in The fucking sea