Orgasm

I write like a demon from a haze of naïveté Cobbling together stones from the cobalt of life I’m in a white oxford button-up and clean jeans I look younger than I am, plus I have no wife Ah, I’ve spilled ink on my shirt again How clumsy! (I’m just a man, a man) Are you sure it’s better to follow you in there To your bedroom? Sure, tell me, ya like suspense or ya like action? Oh, I’m flexible! It all swings along to your mood It erected to me easily, to hang such a tall passion I apologize for every time I came off a bit rude If you want me You’ll have to take me bound (Cream, it rises, it rises, still She rises!) Said if you want me You’ll have to take me bound (Cream, it rises, it rises, still She rises!) Come on, come on Come on, come on Come on baby Do you hear me? You have to take me bound Mine’s a bravura whose clothes are for the lore My face conceals rare diamonds underneath Have you ever left a body—of art—unexplored? I’m like the invisible man, flashing you white teeth Ah, I’ve spilled my ink onto my shirt again, my God To the boudoir! (I’m just a man, a man) Hm? Are you sure it’s better to follow you in there …Monsieur? Yeah… Come on, tell me—what do you like to read?! I have quite the erection, it oscillates to my mood! To emit such an eruption, endowed to me readily! I apologize for every time I seminated you rude If you want me? You’ll have to turn me around (I come alive, alive) Said if you want me You’ll have to turn me around (I come alive, alive) Come on, come on Come on, come on Come on baby If you want me You’ll have to take me bound Proust, Borges, and Nabokov too! Don’t treat them rough; treat ’em like they’re really new! Like they can still make bank; like high culture isn’t through! Why? Come on, come on! Look at Murakami Look at Murakami Look at Murakami Woah, oh, oh, ye-e-e-eah Come on, tell me—BDS or One Direction?! Oh I’m bendable, I take my clothes off when I’m with brood Wit’s my beauty slippin’ you a coquettish misdirection I apologize for every time I crunked at ya a bit crude Come on, tell me—what’s your favorite proscription?! I have quite a collection; it bops along to your mood It blew to me quite easily before vibrating into conniptions I apologize for every time I masturbated on ya rude! If you want me? You’ll have to turn me around (I come alive, alive) Said if you want me You’ll have to turn me around (I come alive, alive) Come on, come on Come on, come on Come on baby Oh fuck Oh fuck oh fuck fuck Holy shit “Okay, no, can I just watch YouTube? Sorry.”