Fuck Ya Guts Out Lyrics & Chords By Kevin Bloody Wilson

I assumed he was talking to his missus
When I heard him talkin' on the phone
His huge tattered frame was shakin' and sobbin'
You could tell he was really missin' home
This bloke was built like the side of a mountain
And as ugly as a top-end buffalo
Standin' there just blubberin' like a baby
Talkin' to his woman on the phone
And I heard poetry that night as I listened while he spoke
I heard poetry that night when he said
I'm gonna fuck ya guts out, an' I'm never gonna stop
Not even when I see ya kidneys wrapped around me cock
'Cause I'll just whip it in, whip it out, wipe it on yer frock
I'm gonna fuck ya guts out, an' I'm never gonna stop
I'm gonna fuck ya in the ear, I'm gonna fuck ya in the nose
Then I'll spin ya on me finger 'til I find another hole
Fuckin' hell, forgot me hanky, and I'm about to blow
Hang on while I let go of the phone
I'm gonna fuck ya guts out, an' I'm never gonna stop
Not even when I see ya kidneys wrapped around me cock
'Cause I'll just whip it in, whip it out, wipe it on yer frock
I'm gonna fuck ya guts out, an' I'm never gonna stop
Nice frock
I assumed I was talkin' to his missus
When he begged me to hang on to the phone
He needed both hands to wank with
And I didn't mind waitin' on
And I swear I was listenin' to a princess
As pure as the soft driven snow
And instantly I knew she was missin' him too
As I listened to her sweet 'n dulcet tones
And I heard poetry that night as I listened while she spoke
I heard poetry that night when she said
I'm gonna suck ya guts out, make ya sorry that ya asked
When ya see yer pillow 'n mattress disappearin' up yer ass
I practiced on the tractor 'til I fucked the bastard's starter
I'm gonna suck ya guts out, make ya sorry that ya asked
I'm on the rags, but that don't matter; you can whack it up me clacker
Can hardly wait to feel that monster dick
You can beat me, whip me, hurt me when yer on the verge of spurtin'
Rip off me shirt 'n slam dunk on me tits
And then I'll suck ya guts out, make ya sorry that ya asked
When ya see yer pillow 'n mattress disappearin' up yer ass
I practiced on the tractor 'til I fucked the bastard's starter
I'm gonna suck ya guts out, make ya sorry that ya asked
And I heard poetry that night as I listened while they spoke
There was poetry that night in the air
I'm gonna fuck ya guts out just as soon as I get home
Instead of gettin' our rocks off talkin' dirty on the phone
Jackin' off, and Jillin' off, and whackin' off alone
I'm gonna fuck ya guts out just as soon as I get home