| I see you work at night and are you sexually amused?
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| What’s it like to have a room of guys encircling you?
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| How she moves and how she walks
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| They all patiently await
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| While the heat from in their pockets
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| Could burn marks into their legs
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| Without your needs and your support
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| She’d have a job the same as ours; |
| nothing daring
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| Would she miss a job that’s sex- that’s sexual?
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| In every city there are dozens
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| Of these clubs where men can go
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| Some people need a little challenge
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| To their fantasies at home
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| There’s a little tiny number on a fold of matches
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| The ink drips from a little dancer’s pen
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| Everybody wants that fold of matches
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| To re-inflate their confidence
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| Hey, it is a job, it pays a lot
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| Is it disservicing someone?
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| And is it good to get these men worked up so sexual?
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| Older dancers gag at what new talent seems to mean
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| Smaller tits and younger limbs can cause a fit of rivalry
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| But it is a job, it pays a lot
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| Is it disservicing someone?
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| And is it good to get these men worked up so sex, so sexual? |