Woah babe, you're wet shirt's something,
It's amazing how they stand.
And now, just one more thing,
I want to see your cans,
Please display by demand,
I want to see your cans.

Your jeans, make me plea,
To let me view your tan.
You've sneezed, now bless me,
And let me see your cans,
They fit right in my hands,
I want to hold your cans.

And just that thought makes Mr. Happy, arise.
They're such great pillows for our love,
And your thighs, my grand prize, no surprise.

Yeah that shirt, shouts out one thing,
Like Playboy on demand.
Just like, how the shirt clings,
I want to hold your cans,
Their weight is on demand,
I want to hold your cans.

And that's so much love you should display, with pride.
You have me squealing for that love,
Please don't hide, show with pride, one wild ride.

Yeah, I feel that something,
That babies understand.
So please rip those shirt strings,
And let me see your cans,
I want to see your cans,
Desire I can't stand,
I want to hold your cans....