Chinese masseuse
Comes between us
Talks in haikus
Plastic venus
Got a headrush
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 go outside
Roll another
For breakfast
Burning clouds around
And in my 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 miniscule
It's no tool at all

Hang on hang on
To your iq to your id
Hang on hang on
To your iq to your id

I'm lonely

Oh