Oh cla**ic gentlemen Say your prayers To the wind, of prostitution To your faces, and Rex complexes Riddle my breast Full of the oppressed puss Oh gentlemen, with your fish The you surround, all around And you man, will always point Your fishes, at me But I will always exist Because I always exist Damn good too The rat race begins The fat face stings I hold the fresh pink baby With a smile I slice off those rosy cheeks Because I feel so thirsty And Oedipus Rex complexes ...riddle my closed bloated breast