My dearest wench, I come to you with food
A pizza pie which thou didst order true
But you answered the door completely nude
And so, methinks you're in the mood to screw
Allow me to disrobe completely now
My pants and shirt thrown quickly to the floor
I must confess, there's none more fair than thou
Let's find a place where we can quickly score
I lookest not for a relationship
A time to woo, to laugh, to love and care
We'll let Sir Marlowe write about that ♥♥♥♥
Whilst I observe your well-groomed pubic hair
And when we're through, before you say goodbye
You owe me nineteen-fifty for the pie

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