Ah, I awakened from a wet dream in which I was wetless My imagination could no longer take me there So I slid into my copping haberdashery And gave into the original jones: s** Now my s**y jones was below sea level The hornies occupied my being I was at that stage where most men would say "Hey ho, it's your life or your legs" but I was cooler than that She said, "No compute". I spotted a lady who was also on the prowl I could tell by her makeup plus the scent was there So I sashayed over to her and, uh Spoke of my plan She screamed and said, "Are you asking to make love to me?" I said, "Is pig what's in pork? Or are you gonna play hard after all the trouble you went through to get chosen?" She said, ah, "No compute". Finally, she said, "Uh, I could, uh, probably go for what you're talking about But it's really about my birth control pills." I said, "All looks are not alike, all holes are not a crack." When in doubt vamp, or at least ad-lib "And of course, you know, spit don't make babies." She smiled and said, "No compute". But I could tell she was getting in to it So off we went There was fun to be had, love to be made "Strange", I said to myself, as I laid smoking a last joint before the technic easing of sleep "What a man will go for when the hornies set in." Well suddenly, as she laid there, mouth half open, wig half off, snoring, breath smelling like a 1948 Buick I was sick with the guilties, and she smiled in her sleep As if to say, "All looks are not alike, all holes are not a crack."