He looks at them funny and then tells them straight
About the heebie-jeebies tainting his betting stakes
The girls would all love him if he was a tad taller
Would all jump up around and then give him a holler
Invite him to their quarters for no-frills action
Cascade him with their tokens, arousing his reaction
Slot machined and slut drilled right down to his core
This happy go lucky player just wallows on for more
Sometimes he gets his kill keep-share of booty loot
Others, just like others, he just gets a treated boot
Although this doesn't phase him and he still goes in
For the kill
It's all a grand excuse for him to consolidate his thrill
Whatever then transpires gets written on a page
Dissected then connected, performed verbatim on stage
He rarely learns his lesson he never makes the grade
It's all a morbid sideshow repeated every day
Over-eagerness and over-compensation
Tend to blunt and dull out every little bit of sensation
Call it sexual conceptual ego-centrical motivation
Probably akin to a diligent Mr. Gray persuasion
He is always at the fore and aft of every situation
The cornerstone and gallstone of reverse erudition.
