It’s the end of the night.
You’re at the end of the bar.
You’re both drunk and lonely
and you get in her car.

She fed you some wine
and a little cognac
and the next thing she knows,
you’re sniffin’ round her back
and she says,

“What do you think you’re doin’?”

You say, “Come on baby.
Don’t let this night go to ruin.

“You know what I want.
You know that you want the same.
Don’t you be sayin’ that line.
Don’t you be playin’ that game.”

CHORUS:
You gotta go down on her snapper while you’re diggin’ her crapper.
Go down on her snapper while you’re diggin’ her crapper.
Go down on her snapper while you’re diggin’ her crapper.
Go down on her snapper while you’re diggin’ her crapper.

You’re both half-dressed
and you’re both half-cocked
and the window is open.
They can hear you down the block.

You call her Jane
but her name is Jill.
You rub it with your thumb
and ask if she’s on the pill.

You get off the pants
and the panties, too.
You pull them down with your teeth
and she laughs at you.

When she’s not looking,
you sniff the lace
then you grab her by the hips
and pull her to your face.

(CHORUS)

Red wings, brown wings.
You just don’t care
as long as she’s got it
sticking up in the air.

You want to give her a ram,
you’ve got to give her a ream.
You’ve got to build up the cream.
You’ve got to make her scream.

So you’re getting her going
and she’s grinding and bucking.
She’s says she’s getting there
and you’re not even fucking.

You want to get her ready
to feed her the beef
because you think you’re so big
that you’ll make her queef.

(CHORUS)

You’re both going down hard
and it’s feeling real pleasant.
Then with a wink of her eye,
she gives you a present.

(CHORUS)

and around
and around…

© 2017 J. M. Smig / Sophisticated Schizophrenic.