There must be magic in there. It always takes somewhere,
where I know I can be what I want me to be.
And you may tell me to go take a hike.
but that is a smell that I like.
I bought a new CD, it was special to me
it had my favorite song.
The song was three minutes long. Then I had an urge that was strong
to take out the book and the sniff that I took was long and absurd, I could not say a word the book paper smelled so damn good.
They say that the sense of smell is well related to memory
and that is a claim that I wholeheartedly agree with.
Whenever I'm in an unfinished basement
reminds me of a time when I was young and I went
downstairs and found my daddy's nudey-mags
and that was the first time I ever did the duty and
everyday I'd slip away and exposé my pene
My lady-friend, she bought me a ring, it was a valuable thing I think they're calling it bling bling.
but what was more interesting, Sting is what was under the ring.
the ring took a plunge as I fished for that sponge then I shoved it up into my beak, I went weak.
It smelled so good I couldn't speak.
Then my lady got mad, I suppose I should add that the ring cost her five-hundred clams she could have spared us this grudge if she just bought the sponge but now she made me feel like an ass she packed up her bags and then hit the turnpike all because of a smell that I like.