Should time allow us to describe our prowess, it would be quite hard to overrate, for we are the king of the boudoir, old thing, and the king doesn't like to wait.
One tryst with me, and you'll be spinning like a gyroscope. One tryst with me, and you'll be Pope.
Should modesty allow us to describe our prowesslessnesslessness, 'twould be quite hard to overstate, for we are the king of the boudoir, it's true, and the king doesn't like to wait.
One kiss from me and you'll be overjoyed and overawed. One kiss from me and you'll see God. For we are the king of the boudoir, we are, and the king doesn't like to wait.
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