Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Penis Song, artist - Momus.
Date of issue: 05.12.2019
Song language: English
The Penis Song |
Buckminster Fuller, inventor of the geodesic dome |
Once gave a lecture he entitled 'everything I know' |
Taking the title literally, he spoke four years or so |
And I intend to do the same, so make yourself at home |
(Pull up a chair, smoke a cigar or something) |
Cynthia Plaster Caster once took my cast and showed me |
In a penis exhibition in a gallery on Broadway |
So many people saw my penis in its glass case |
They recognise my penis now before my face |
Subject for today: does knowledge elevate or demean us? |
Everything you didn’t want to know about my penis |
A baker has a penis thing for flattening the dough |
But stick it in the oven and it rises up, like so |
The man who chops the melons up with a long and pointed knife |
Has a penis with a mottled skin, I know, I asked his wife |
(Very curious) |
A priest beneath his cassock has a penis all the same |
Some call the hypothalamus the penis of the brain |
One man’s sport is fly fishing, another’s, pocket billiards |
Congratulations, Watson, on your almost-Freudian brilliance |
The comedian from hell always thinks he can entertain us |
With everything we didn’t want to know about his penis |
Like the heather of the Highlands, mine is tipped with flecks of purple |
With a head as wise as Solomon, although shaped like a turtle |
It wears a flesh-tone roll-neck and the neck goes up and down |
It comes out in the evenings and on Friday paints the town |
Obsessively, compulsively, it only wants one thing |
To fill your chosen orifice with ropes of pearly string |
Delivering its message to your womb or to your tongue |
And then going slack and flaccid when its pressing work is done |
In witty conversation, by drip or intravenus |
I drop everything you didn’t want to know about my penis |
It’s a very fine philosopher, debating right and wrong |
Shows promise as a songwriter (it writes most of my songs) |
Don’t bury it in boxer shorts but wear it like a tie |
Or avant garde jewellery hanging from your fly |
(Very chic!) |
Jean Luc Godard once declared, to gales of mystified laughter |
That some men wash their hands before they touch it, others after |
And if you slot it carefully where the sun will never shine |
You’ll feel what’s mine becoming yours, what’s yours becoming mine |
Ladies and hermaphrodites, my tender-hearted readers |
Everything you didn’t want to know about my penis |
There was a bohemian monk |
Who went to bed in a bunk |
He dreamt that Venus |
Was stroking his penis |
And woke up all covered in… |
Thought for the day: does abstinence dirty us or clean us? |
Everything you didn’t want to know about my penis |
It’s a tribute to the power of something otherwise mundane |
That waving it under a stranger’s nose is said to scar his brain |
I’m doing my bit to see the power of taboo remains intact: |
I keep a penis on my head but never lift my hat |
(I keep a penis on my head but never lift my hat) |
And if I’ve bored you stiff with this riff about my penis |
I wouldn’t let a little thing like that come between us |
And if you can think of another song even more atrocious |
Well supercalifragilisiticexpifuckingdocious |