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Chinese masseuse, comes between us
Talks in haiku's, plastic Venus.
Got a head rush, in her pocket
Two rubbers two lubes, and a silver rocket
[Chorus]
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.
[Chorus]
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.
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