Chorus:

Girl, get in my Mazda®, Mazda®.
You might have seen me on the plasma, plasma.
It's all about you every stanza, stanza
and do do do do do I make you breathless or do you have asthma?

Verse 1:

It's Mikey Maybe, in my mercedes®
I liked this lady, and bought her daisies
It was a bouquet, and she said "Okay"
We packed some whole-grain sandwiches and croquet

And had a picnic, and ate some triscuits®
And then we listened to Joe's album and we "dissed" it
We drank the sunlight, and then some Sunlight®,
and then we crossed the street and had a gunfight (untrue).

Verse 2:
Tonight we stayed in, she had great skin,
she brought gin, we drank [a responsible amount of] gin.
I hate gin.
We watched youtube®, and ate cuscus,
and then we killed a couple chickens practiced voodoo (satanic and bad).

My house has ghosts now. We danced to motown
and drank some soy stuff GROSS I guess it's "low cal".
She smelled like Pantene® and felt like hand cream,
I tried to kiss her as we jumped on someone's trampoline.

Verse 3:
I got mad game. Meet me half way, at the café. Have the champagne. Have the crab legs. Have the plantain/banana pancakes. Have my hand—wait. That lampshade is handmade. How's you flambé?

If your pâté is blasé or tastes like mayonnaise, we can dine and dash, fine!, we'll sashay out the back way to my black jag (Jaguar®). Rocket fuel in the gas tank. Fast lane forever, pull a "U", pull a hand brake.

Oh! And look at you with your handbag. Let's stroll down the pathways, cascade down the manmade hills, get grass stains, get old, get back pain, sell Amway®.

'Cuz your eyes are like flash bangs and your skin is the color of a Band-aid®. My heart was dry like an ashtray, now I'm going to cry and we're going to need sandbags, girl.