You know that your clinging on to this make-believe about "spending plans" isn't going to last much longer. Because your cock's just aching for my little tits, and just aching for the next send. Cutting into your grocery bill, the last of your ration
Rearranging what is and what isn't important, inching closer and closer to that dangerous edge. You try to tell yourself that you can hold back, but you know that there's no stopping this.