Oh my god, Becky, look at her breath.
It is so thin.
She looks like one of those Raphaelite guys’ girlfriends.
But, y'know, who understands those Raphaelite guys anyway?
They only talk to her, because,
she looks like a total fallen woman, 'kay?
I mean, her breath, is just so thin.
I can't believe it's just so weak, it's like,
barely there, I mean - gross. Look!
She's just so ... pale!

My Brotherhood tried to warn me
But that cough you got makes me so horny!

Ooh, ankle-o’-pale-skin
You say you wanna get in my oeuvre?
Well, use me, use me
'Cause you ain't that average muse!
I've seen her dancin'
The hell with romancin'
She's sweat, wet,
Smilin’ ‘cause she ain’t dead yet!
I'm tired of magazines
Sayin' healthy is the thing
Take the average Raphaelite and ask him that
She gotta pack much hack.

So, Dante! (Yeah!) Holman-Hunt! (Yeah!)
Has your girlfriend got the Tib? (Hell yeah!)
Tell 'em to hawk it! (Shake it!) Hawk it! (Shake it!)
Hawk that rattlin’ cough!
Baby got hack!

(Hampshire face with London booty)
Baby got hack!

I like 'em wasted, and languid
With those drooping lids--
I just can't help myself,
I'm actin' like an animal
Now here's my scandal:
I wanna get you home
And ‘lo, double-up, cough, spit!
I ain't talkin' bout the Royal Academy
'Cause marble parts are made for boys!

I want 'em real thin and supine
So find that sickly double
Lancelot’s in trouble
Beggin' for a piece of that rubble.
So I'm lookin' at Picasso
Watchin' blue bimbos walkin' like crows
You can have all of his
I'll keep my women like Janey and Liz!

A word to the faint soul sistas, I wanna get with ya
I won't cuss or hit ya
But I gotta be straight when I say I wanna paint
Til the break of dawn
when your strength is almost gone:
A lot of chicks won't like this song
'cause them punks like to eat and breathe
And I'd rather they freeze and sneeze,
'Cause I'm long, and I'm strong
And I'm down to get my Arthur on

So, ladies! {Yeah!) Ladies! (Yeah)
If you want a role in my Hades (Yeah!)
Then turn around! Spit it out!
Even Ruskin got to shout
Baby got hack!
Baby got hack!

Yeah, baby! When it comes to females,
Ruben ain't got nothin'
to do with my selection.
36-24-36? Ha ha, only if she's 6'3".

So your girlfriend models as Guinevere,
cheeks all pink and bright with cheer?
But Gwinny ain't got pneumonia in the back of her chest cavity.
My anaconda don't want none
Unless you've got croup, hun
You can take Vitamin C or ‘cillin,
But please don't lose that cough.
Some brothers wanna play that hard role
And tell you that your breath ain't cold
So they toss it and leave it
And I pull up quick to retrieve it.

So London says you're flat
Well I ain't down with that!
'Cause your waist is small and your flu is kickin' in
And I'm thinkin' bout stickin' in!

To the bustled-up dames in the magazines:
You ain't it, Miss Thing!
Give me a sista, I can't resist her
Consumption didn't miss her!

Some knucklehead tried to diss
'Cause his Effie was on my list
He had her but he chose to quit ‘er
And I pull up quick to get wit 'er!

So ladies, if the chest is frail,
And you want to do it in your veils
Dial 1-900-LANCELOT
And kick them morbid thoughts
Baby got hack!

(Liddell and Siddall, man, they got much hack) [4x]

***

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Current Mood: parodic