The steam room and the sauna
They are my racetrack, my sweet fleeting fauna
The swimming pool and the meditation star
They are my cigarette, my whisky, my pimp, my bar
Now this simple phraseology, this word psychology
This is my style, not yours, for that I make no apology
The tidy quiet room; laid back jazz and soulful blues
This is my non-hovel, I have no desire to grovel
Yet I read your works and marvel at your creation
Your escapades; words, to which I bear no relation
But just to put your mind at rest, in you I did invest
In the Jacuzzi; the plumes sure do dress the nest
The volva, the vulva caressed by volcanic water vests
Tattoos on thighs open your eyes, stir feelings blest
And there are girls there with their mothers
And ladies going on girls, there with their lovers
The lecher stretching don’t take much fetching
When there’s so much skin, skin waving, shaving skin
For inspiration and amusement, when in lent
The spa’s the place to rent
