So many boys climbed up on me;
Became men and ran free.
Didn’t know how to make a man scream;
They were jam before cream.
Hands trembled when told put it here;
Blood pumped hard as they neared.
One, two, three, tight wet ridges winked;
I released their instincts.
After they made me scream, they’d leave;
So many men owe me.
Before the moon turned red, they’d wed;
Their grooms screw in my bed.