Uhm, so this next song is about love, appropriately
I love you like kings love queens
Like a gay geneticist loves designer genes [jeans]
I need you like New Orleans needs a drought
Like Hitler’s father needed to learn to pull out
And I want you, yeah
Like a lawyer-slash-mathematician wants some kind of proof
And I want you, yeah
Like JFK wanted
A car with a roof
Because love is taking that dive
Then getting really comfortable and peeing in the pool
And love is a real-life porn
Minus all the stuff that makes porn cool
And love is a homeless guy, searching for treasure in the middle of the rain and
Finding a bag of gold coins and slowly finding out they’re all filled with chocolate and
Even though he’s heart broken, he can’t complain cause he was hungry in the first place
Because I love you like Dora loves maps
Like the Pope’s toilet loves holy craps. (Just’s a little one.)
I need you like a voyeur needs a branch
Like boys tossing salad need a little bit of Neverland Ranch
And I want you, yeah
Like all the gothic kids that look exactly the same never want to conform
And I want you like Anne Frank wanted
Nobody to read her fucking diary
Cause a diary is a collection of secret things that no one’s supposed to read, that’s the whole point of a diary. Millions of people that breached this little girl’s privacy after she was chased by Nazis; kick her while she’s down
And if we met in 10,000 BC
I was your caveman, you’s my cave lady
If we got hot, we’d start rubbing
If we got hungry, we’d go clubbing
There’s woolly mammoths, but I will protect us
You’re making me devolve to a homo erectus, mothafucker
And if we met in 1780
I was a white southern aristocratic plantation owner and you were my dark-skinned servant lady…slave
Whenever I could get away from the missus
I go to your shed and then I’d steal you kisses
But let’s be serious, I’d still work you full-time as a slave, there’s a difference between romantic language and a complete disregard for socio-economic trends
And if we met in 1941
I was a Nazi, you’s a Gypsy on the run (That’s a little redundant)
That… probably wouldn’t have worked out
Because…
Love is your favorite food for every breakfast, lunch, and dinner
And love is the Holocaust, ‘cept you don’t die quick and you don’t get thinner
And love is being the owner of the company that makes rape whistles
And even though you started the company with good intentions trying to reduce the rate of rape
Now you don’t want to reduce it at all cause if the rape rate declines, you’ll see an equal decline in whistle sales
Without rapists, who’s gonna buy your whistles?
Yeah, love is all about…
Whistles. Thank you
[Talking to Audience]
Uh, that one was a bit vulgar, but uh, you know, dicks and vaginas are sorta like Coke and Pepsi, you know? Ah, I strongly prefer one, but my dad thinks they taste the same