"Big bottled Fraulein, put your weight on me," said the pig-me to the
whore, desperate for more in his assault upon the mountain
Little man, his youth a fountain Overdrafted and still counting
Vernacular, verbose; an attempt at getting close to where he came from
In the doorway of the stars, between Blandford Street and Mars;
Proposition, deal Flying button feel Testicle testing
Wallet ever-bulging Dressed to the left, divulging the wrinkles of his
years
Wedding-bell induced fears
Shedding bell-end tears in the pocket of her resistance
International assistance flowing generous and full to his never-ready tool
Pulls his eyes over her wool And he shudders as he comes -
And my rudder slowly turns me into the Marylebone Road