Men want women that tangle with fire … That stand at the gate, you know they can’t wait.
Men want women for the wanting and the hustling, it’s a game of chance, a fancy new groove, she’ll bring the lube and you can’t stop the house from shaking.
Men want women who live in the sky, carrying their timber wolf selves in their pocket, with a rocket, and a chain … one they attach to their slave named Blain.
Men want women that wear leather over the heart, with stern will and stubborn gaze, they braise the pulled pork patty with a love-blow.
Men want women who know about soup and stew and baked bread, they want women that can do math and build a plane and bring you joy, you know this baby.
Men want women who are warriors and queens, that will fix our machines and cook us a nice hot meal.
Men want women who stand real tall, look good at the ball, and have a shot group that’s super small.
Men want women of iron and lace, who carry burdens without care, their pie wins the state fair.
Men want women who stare into Hell, shaking their booty, and ringing that bell …
We want the woman of the forest, hairy legs and shorgon-fluids dripping from her moistness …
We want women to be the pincer movement of spirit, where mother-boys give way to men, and lost socks are found.
