| She entered the room and her Scorpio heat
|
| Melted a grown man in his seat
|
| Wired up the frozen women in pairs
|
| And the adolescent stallions and mares
|
| She opened her fur and her legs walked out
|
| Into a room full of twist and shout
|
| Heavy her musk, hung dark in the air
|
| From deep in the coils of her henna-hair
|
| Flame, flame, flame, flame
|
| Flame, flame, flame me
|
| She smiled at a friend and the room’s eye stared
|
| At the chosen acolyte holing her there
|
| What celluloid images deep down below
|
| Could ever have primed such sex to show
|
| Flame, flame, flame, flame
|
| Flame, flame, flame me
|
| Flame, flame, flame, flame
|
| Flame, flame, flame me
|
| She entered the room and her Scorpio heat
|
| Melted a grown man in his seat
|
| From out of the airless gasp of the night
|
| The fires of desire were burning white
|
| Flame, flame, flame, flame
|
| Flame, flame, flame me
|
| Flame, flame, flame, flame
|
| Flame, flame, flame me |