They’re finally writing songs about designers.
Iâ€™ll slap your back if you slap mine.
Weâ€™ll stand up straight and we wonâ€™t get tired.
We kiss like strangers, but !@#$ like flies.
In my book of touch, thatâ€™s three high-fives.
Ainâ€™t too tender. Ainâ€™t going head over heels.
Be with me and smile bright.
Weâ€™ll be the only stars on the floor tonight.
We both love shopping and contour lines,
and agree Burt Morris should resign.
I donâ€™t care who you screw
If you just be straight, Iâ€™ll stay with you.
Wonâ€™t it be great to live forever this way.
Designer boyfriend: you draw the lines in some strange a s s places.
Designed her boyfriend: set with the wrong typefaces.
We slept in late just like we bloomed.
We wrote up tired, and I questioned you:
You donâ€™t rest still. You toss and turn.
In your heart of hearts, what gender burns?
Ainâ€™t it funny, how we think lines are straight?
I peed that day after your shower.
Boy, it sure did smell like flowers.
On the steamed up mirror next to the clock,
I saw you had written, I heart c o c k.
I guess that answers who you screw,
If you just be straight Iâ€™d stay with you.
Wonâ€™t it be quaint to live forever this way.
I found your secret stash of gay p o r n and
I thought to myself, â€Iâ€™m so forlorn.
Rebecca, you should have listened when Grandaddy warned you,
Itâ€™s a land of fruit and nuts, this sate of California.â€œ
Bumped into you at the day spa,
but Iâ€™ve found myself a better bra:
a better guy to hold my breasts
when Iâ€™m at work, he just rests.
Ainâ€™t no longer finding my underwear gone.
Caught the bus down at the corner
got off by the bay where the boys are hornier.
I donâ€™t care if youâ€™re a disco star. Iâ€™m never going back to the Boy Bar.
Your color composition might be best in the Mission,
But I donâ€™t like the way your S E X is positioned.
Put your prisma colors back in their pencil case.