we held down miles of my own vomit
just to get my rocket in the pocket of every pretty lady in town
(maybe no one hugged me enough as a child,
or maybe some one did too much)

complain to the scissors, bite the skirt sleeve
let's see the look on your face when i make it work
if every woman was a continent, i would be napoleon
yeah your body's the sea for me to navigate
i want to be the superb qualities to your three pronged fingertips
i'll be the ashtray to love's unfiltered cigarettes,
like the k-9 nose to your crotch
i want to watch you undress through the keyhole
you make me cum like never before

blah blah blah blah