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Sicka Sicka Sista
It's your Sicka Sicka Sista
Knocking at the door
The blonde brunette
With a salamander crawling up her leg
She's got the tongue of a serpent
And she won't let me go

It's cold outside
The rain is falling down on us
Free rounds all around
On me and my non-stamped non-delivered bills

I've been pushed around
Pulled a bit
Haven't had sex since age seventeen

Now I know that you have given me slow roasted salmon
And I know how much you enjoy the dance you dance
But I must tell you
About the something I have for you
Oh Sicka Sicka Sista

Now, don't get me wrong
I've learned so much from your conversing thoughts
And I've learned to understand the theory of it all
But why must you invade me like a fly trap
I'll never quite figure it out

In the meantime
Dinner at Eight
Set the plates for two
I'll be dressed in my suit
With my stockings beneath
Or not

 2003 David Greg Harth @ 296 NYC