The Stir-Crazy Pornographer

Enter he with paperweight
A kinky old man named Jane-Be-Late
He says, «Son, don’t drag me drag me down down
To the ground»
Now when he works he blazes trails
Of fine-tooth combs and ponytails
Just «Son, don’t drag me drag me down down
To the ground»
«Son, don’t drag me drag me down down
«Son, don’t drag me drag me down down
To the ground»
Drag me down down
Drag me down down
Drag me down down
To the ground