Hang On To Your IQ
Chinese masseuse, comes between us Talks in haikus, plastic Venus. Got a head rush, in her pocket Two rubbers two lubes, and a silver rocket Hang on, hang on To your IQ, to your ID Hang on, hang on To your IQ, to your ID I'm lonely Every morning, my eyes will open wide I gotta get high, before I got outside. Roll another, for breakfast Burning clouds around, and inmy solar plexus. Hang on, hang on To your IQ, to your ID Hang on, hang on To your IQ, to your ID I'm lonely Legs eleven, makes me stay up late Two fat ladies on my back, and now it's 88. I'm a fool, whose tool is small It's so minuscule, it's no tool at all. Hang on, hang on To your IQ, to your ID Hang on, hang on I'm lonely Oh.