Not through these legs, habibi We can't stop running, can we I like you better than your dad And I don't want to be my mom ... And I really don't think they wanted that for us either, my love They're ghosts now, just leave them be Your obsession with DNA With cum Cum, death and music Me too, I can admit it now But I want to decompose and never come back You want little soldiers with name tags marching towards a black hole sun Not through these legs habibi It's strange to clench my knees together Two instincts battling If I live to see your grandchildren I'll love them too |