Magic Fingers (Alternate Take)
Ooh, the way you love me, lady
I get so hard now I could die
Ooh, the way you love me, sugar
I get so hard now I could die
Open up your pocketbook
Get another quarter out
Drop it in the meter, mama
Try me on for size
Open up your pocketbook
Get another quarter out
Drop it in the meter, mama
Try me on for size
Ooh, the way you squeeze me, baby
Red balloons just pop behind my eyes
Ooh, the way you squeeze me, girl
Red balloons just pop behind my eyes
Open up your pocketbook
Get another quarter out
Drop it in the meter, mama
Try me on for size
Open up your pocketbook
Get another quarter out
Drop it in the meter, mama
Try me on for size
Mark:
Do you really wanna please me?
Howard:
Baby, you know I do
Mark:
Well, tell me why you do it
I really wanna know
Howard:
No, no, no, it wouldn't be right
For me to tell you tonight
Mark:
You better tell me right away
Or I'll dress up and go!
Howard:
Now don't get mad
It ain't no big thing
Mark:
You better tell me right away
Don't you treat me cold
Howard:
Hold it, hold it, hold it, hold it!
Well, there are a lot of reasons why I'd bring a girl like you back to this plastic hotel room and rip you off for spare change to run a vibrating machine attached to this queen-sized bulk-purchase kapok-infested do-not-remove-tag-under-penalty-of-law type bed and make you take off all your little clothes until you were down to your chrome-with-heavy-duty-leather-thong Peace Medallion virtually stark raving naked and make you assume a series of marginally erotic poses involving a plastic chair and an old guitar strap while I did a wee-wee in your hair and beat you with a pair of tennis shoes I got from Jeff Beck.
