The Taste of Love

You tell me that you love me,

But I think that isn't so,

More times than I can count,

You have told me where to go,

You tell me that you need me,

That's a good one, I should save,

I think you only need me,

Like an owner needs a slave,

You say your shit don't stink,

Well that's a far cry from the truth,

I've had to shovel enough of it,

It sure ain't no Baby Ruth!

I've had to wash your dishes,

Clean your toilets, wash your floors,

Then you have the gall to demand,

That I do all of your chores,

You take me to your bed each night,

Where there you have your way,

Treated like a piece of bed meat,

Prolonging the foreplay,

Then you have the audacity to say,

Something that makes me sicken,

You tell me that you love me,

And that I '...taste like chicken.'