Goldspritzer, he’s the man, the man with the hydro touch,
a dry-no touch.
Not a cold spritzer, wettens dude—
a sort of enuresis
that makes a hiss.

Golden urge will outpour on his ears.
It ain’t dry; in his eyes, that ain’t tears.
When a golden girl goes, she ain’t mistin’—
it’s a hissin’ jet that’s glist’nin’
Goldspritzer.
Dribbly girl, you’ll share what is far from cold
with hue of gold.

Golden urge will outpour without peer—
that sounds oxymoronic, I fear.
When a golden girl goes, she ain’t mistin’—
it’s a hissin’ jet that’s “christ’nin’”
Goldspritzer.
Pissy girl, you’ll share what is far from cold
and’s bought and sold.

He loves eau do gold
au, that gold?
No another gold:
soaking gold.
He loves gold!