I could be like a snowflake
Fallen all the way from heaven into a magpie's nest,
Only to place my powdered cheek gently upon his hairy chest
I could be his Maiden Marianne gift-wrapped in cloak and silken hood,
Oh, a robin-redbreast sitting high up in the tree-tops -
Of his mo(u)rning wood

I need, I need a silver-furred
A sugar sugar-daddy-bear,
Someone who loves the front of me,
Who likes to pay and loves to care
A frizzly ursus, strong but cute,
Adorable in leather, denim or tweed-suit
I'd polish silver, 'cause I long to be spooned
On the dark, dark side of the palest moon

Mandrake grows beneath the gallows
In the shape of the one thing
That you should never swallow
I know, he may look like the cutest thing you've ever seen
But, Honey, we just don't know
Where this old thing of his had been

I almost had a secret love affair
With a dead boy's underwear
I nicked it from the mortuary,
But the damn thing was far too small for me

That's why each time I hear the postman ring,
I can't help wondering what he might bring
Oh, will he have something for me,
And, if so, I wonder how large will his package be?

The chimney-sweep, the chimney-sweep,
He came at two o'clock,
I showed him where the furnace was,
And he showed me his cock
He wore a bomber-jacket, black, but his hair-cut was crap,
It took him rather long to finish his annual check

A sylvan stronghold for the golden child,
Built and looked after by heart beguiled
A guard, a servant and a loyal king,
A winter-garden and a thermal-spring