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It's never your fault, sweet mother |
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That I was raised in the days |
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Of the house-husband craze |
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But the taste of your loving udder |
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Was replaced by another |
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Dried cow puss and rubber |
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And now a hunger still thrives |
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A hunger that |
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I've never satisfied |
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I'm fumbling through life |
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From hunger |
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I writhe for someone |
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With a place |
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I can hide my eyes |
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I'm searching for a mighty heart |
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Housed with a mighty crest |
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And from this base of operation |
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I would pacify the nation |
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But then who would rely |
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On a boob such as |
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I I'll be anyone's twit |
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For a mouthful of tittie |
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And still that hunger will thrive |
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A hunger that |
|
I've never satisfied |
|
I'm fumbling through life |
|
From hunger |
|
I writhe for someone |
|
With a place |
|
I can hide my eyes |
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And I've got big eyes |
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For someone |
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With a place |
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I can hide these eyes |
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And that ain't all |
