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.