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 someone 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
Composição: Jonathan Syverson / Pat Masterson / Nicholas Andrew Sadler / Jeremy Wabiszczewicz / Alexis Marshall