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That he is mad, 'tis true; 'tis true 'tis pity;
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| My love for you is true. Your puppetness makes me blue. The man you need is me in deed, so let's take off to screw. | |
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| I'm a puppet can you not see, you are not the man for me. Your intentions are rotten I'm filled with cotton so please just let me be. | |
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Have we eaten on the insane root that takes the reason prisoner?
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| Due to the effacious spell which I've learned, my love will no longer be spurned. I'll make you my queen you'll love it indeed, for years your loved I've yearned. | |
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| All my life I've wished I was real, if you grant my wish I'll cut you a deal. Me and you in bed, you're sick in the head but I'll at least let you cop a feel. | |
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Away, you scullion! You rampallion! You fustilarion! I'll tickle your catastrophe!
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| Your human form is distracting, my felling for you i am retracting. Your legs I would not spread, I'll fuck a pillow instead, it's cotton I find so attracting. | |
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| I do not know how to feel. My anger I must conceal. I've loved the king all along, I yearn for his dong, without him my cunt will congeal. | |
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