Your space will never be blank If you always act like a skank As servicing men is not a chore You will never be a bore For men will abound And will always be around Screaming "more whore more"
When it comes to talking 'bout head My thoughts are much better unsaid But if we shared a bed Because we were wed You'd melt in the joy spread by Fred
Now, that is, of course, just obscene 'Cause how could I know, sight unseen Joy flows from love earned Through caring things learned And we don't know what might have been
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