These days you're waking up in a bundle of orgasm
These days your jism lines all the windows in your kitchen
I found my heaven stocked in a medical waiting room
Each patient plastered, sleeveless and leaving before they're called
I know you're searching for something less psychological
Those days are gone so long oh well son of a gun
Was tired, weak and frail in the belly of your whale
We tried suction speak in a vacuum with a leak
Get out my guide and on the way I find the best places to stay
Waking on the east-bound side and easy feeling overly west
Wasting all our time under the gun of ambiguity again
These days you're waking up in a bundle of orgasm
These days your wisdom lines all the windows in your kitchen
I found my heaven stocked in a mating room wedical
I know you're searching for something less psychological