Lord Gold Throneroom

The lights are on
 The tvs off
 The floors are fleshy silk
 But sinfully soft
 Skin glides over silk
 silk glides over skin
 The penthouse is alive tonight
 Theres people writhing in its veins
 Sunken in the masters chair
 Lord golds face "a blank survey
 Women pleasure men at the wave of his golden hand
 And turn to receive as he waves again
 The wine is fire
 The whiskys full of stars
 Theres a deaf mute in a bunny suit
 Working the bar
 The lovers fuck
 They pulse and moan
 Passion paying tribute
 At the foot of a porcelain...
 Sunken in the masters chair
 Lord golds faceaE"a blank survey
 Women pleasure men at the wave of a golden hand
 And turn to receive as he waves again
 Still his eyes are like an empty carousel
 Promising pleasure but offering none!
 ...she needs him,
 Watching gazing leering blankly vacant worthless golden perfect
 Beyond these walls nothing exists
 Here theres flesh + gold and blood in the wine
 Outside theres barren emotional landscapes
 Here we drink, dream + cum inside
 Here theres no pain
 Here... she... comes
 Wash off the filth and bring her
 Shower her body with julep and incense
 Fill her with jewels covered in cum
 Sacrificed in his alter of passions
 The golden day ahas come
 The lights are all off now
 And the love growing louder
 The pink, throbbing and filling the room
 Indulging the inner, denying the outer
 Shes brought before he
 His empty gaze it lingers...
 ...he beats a cats paw- against a toy drum
 His golden will be done.