Work Text:
So what if they’re called death-sticks, I like them
Good or bad, nothing is meant to last
Looking good, sexy cool, living life fast
And so if I like to suck on theses things bad
There is really no reason to get your skivvies in a twist
Because no good or bad thing really exists
Which we can all agree on should be licked
And so, going out for another pack
As the mere thought of their lack
Got me riled up so badly as a matter of fact
Going a day or longer moment without this blast
Between my lips, holding on to those between my fingers
Huffing and puffing the air through those slim dings
How could they possibly be wrong for me?