Chinese masseuse, comes between us
Talks in haikus, plastic venus.
Got a headrush, in her pocket
Two rubbers two lubes, and a silver rocket
Hang on, hang on
To your iq, to your I'd
Hang on, hang on
To your iq, to your I'd
I'm lonely
Every morning, my eyes will open wide
I gotta get high, before I go outside.
Roll another, for breakfast
Burning clouds around, and in my solar plexus.
Hang on, hang on
To your iq, to your I'd
Hang on, hang on
To your iq, to your I'd
I'm lonely
Legs eleven, makes me stay up late
Two fat ladies on my back, and now it's eighty eight.
I'm a fool, whose tool is small
It's so miniscule, it's no tool at all.
Hang on, hang on
To your iq, to your I'd
Hang on, hang on
I'm lonely
Oh.
