Digital
Screw me, screw me,
Say that you’ll screw me . . .
Gotta bounce, gotta shake it to make it.
With that kind of guy, you just can’t fake it.
When he offers, I will take it,
Rake it, and stake it out.
I don’t mind when he wants to grind,
"Go ahead and slap this behind!"
Act aggressively, that’s my kind,
And within me he shall find
A bear who can bare the dare
That’s there.
What’s it gonna be? Who’s it gonna be?
Who’s next?
Give me the digits.
All he has to ask is to grill,
I just can’t wait to feel the thrill
Till
He’s the King of the Hill-
Billies.
Gee, free willies!
I want him now,
I’ll take his vow,
Get in my way, girl, and "Pow!"
I want his body for me to feel.
For him, who the hell wouldn’t I kill?
As if at a shrine, I would kneel
And reel and leave the damn bill.
Call me a whore if you will.
I’ll leave you sore, you’ll need a pill
‘Cause I like him.
Oh, the lights are dim,
And it’s down low and intensely slow,
But he’s gotta flow, you know.
Bump and ride . . .
Oh, uh, uh!
What’s it gonna be? Who’s it gonna be?
Who’s next?
Give me the digits.
I ponder by the pond
About how fond
I am of him.
I’ll drink him like a bowl of tin -
Stiff and certainly not thin.
I’ll be his next of kin,
His fluttering wren,
A crying vessel of sin.
I wish he’d spread his legs like years in college
So (like a computer) I could gain the knowledge -
Load me in the hard drive.
What’s it gonna be? Who’s it gonna be?
Who’s next?
Give me the digits.