Three more than you had before,
Every time I stare into your blue eyes.
Three more and they'll call you whore,
That's the only thing I despise.
I wish they wouldn't call you that anymore,
Nothing else I can do to pass the time,
Sometimes when I find myself really bored,
I find myself falling into your ambitious mind.
I'm a slave trapped in your cell,
Three life terms and gone to hell,
I wish you would wish me well,
I wish you would wish in my wishing well...
But then we died,
And things tend to slow down after death.