Music in the kitchen, I'm calling your name   We were kissing last night, but it wasn't the same      I've got the clinger's cling, I've got the swinger's swing   I've got the charmer's charm, I'll walk you home under my arm   I've got the gentleman's spell, but I'll fuck in any motel      Your friend is on the telephone, he's calling my bluff   He's telling you I touched her, but that's not enough   He's making shit up now, trying to be your friend   He's making you cry, making me contend   He's making you feel worse, making me perverse   Now you know what you wanted to know   and I'm fucking cursed