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Uhm, so this next song is about love, appropriately. |
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I love you like kings love queens, |
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Like a gay geneticist loves designer genes [jeans]. |
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I need you like New Orleans needs a drought, |
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Like Hitler's father needed to learn to pull out. |
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And I want you, yeah, |
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Like a lawyer-slash-mathematician wants some kind of proof. |
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And I want you, yeah, |
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Like JFK wanted |
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A car with a roof. |
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Because love is taking that dive, |
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Then getting really comfortable and peeing in the pool. |
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And love is a real-life porn, |
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Minus all the stuff that makes porn cool. |
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And love is a homeless guy, searching for treasure in the middle of the rain and, |
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Finding a bag of gold coins and slowly finding out they're all filled with chocolate and, |
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Even though he's heart broken, he can't complain 'cause he was hungry in the first place. |
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Because I love you like Dora loves maps, |
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Like the Pope's toilet loves holy craps. (Just's a little one.) |
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I need you like a voyeur needs a branch, |
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Like boys tossing salad need a little bit of Neverland Ranch. |
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And I want you, yeah, |
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Like all the gothic kids that look exactly the same never want to conform. |
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And I want you like Anne Frank wanted |
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Nobody to read her ****ing diary. |
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'Cause a diary is a collection of secret things that no one's supposed to read, that's the whole point of a diary. Millions of people that breached this little girl's privacy after she was chased by Nazis; kick her while she's down. |
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And if we met in 10,000 BC, |
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I was your caveman, you's my cavelady. |
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If we got hot, we'd start rubbing, |
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If we got hungry, we'd go clubbing. |
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There's woolly mammoths, but I will protect us, |
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You're making me devolve to a homo erectus, motha****er. |
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And if we met in 1780, |
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I was a white southern aristocratic plantation owner and you were my dark-skinned servant lady...slave. |
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Whenever I could get away from the missus, |
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I go to your shed and then I'd steal you kisses. |
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But let's be serious, I'd still work you full-time as a slave, there's a difference between romantic language and a complete disregard for socio-economic trends. |
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And if we met in 1941, |
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I was a Nazi, you's a Gypsy on the run (That's a little redundant). |
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That... probably wouldn't have worked out. |
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Because... |
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Love is your favorite food for every breakfast, lunch, and dinner. |
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And love is the Holocaust, 'cept you don't die quick and you don't get thinner. |
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And love is being the owner of the company that makes rape whistles, |
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And even though you started the company with good intentions trying to reduce the rate of rape, |
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Now you don't want to reduce it at all cause if the rape rate declines, you'll see an equal decline in whistle sales. |
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Without rapists, who's gonna buy your whistles? |
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Yeah, love is all about... |
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Whistles. Thank you. |
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[Talking to Audience] |
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Uh, that one was a bit vulgar, but uh, you know, dicks and vaginas are sorta like Coke and Pepsi, you know? Ah, I strongly prefer one, but my dad thinks they taste the same. |
