wake to wine on a bedside table

warm skin between your arms

underwear lying on the floor

bedroom door shut tight

spilling milk and say i'm ready!

you will be my guide

i judge you and i wait to shed a tear

tell me please all the things i want to hear

you decide i am the one

the one you want this afternoon

down in the ale house on avenue b

you bought me a stout

before i could choke it down

i heard you shout,

"i like the apple and i like a pear,

i like your curly black hair"

beating on the matress

with doubt and pleasure

you take that warmth to your face

and get buried in the treasure

romantic men begin to sing,

"la la"

i caught a cab way down town

i saw you on the corner of mott

selling fake watches in a hand me down gown

just trying to make a buck

i like the apple and i like a pear

i like your curly black hair