Whoa, I’ll let you be right on top of me; as long as you can handle the pain and the pleasure that comes with me inside.
It’s time to count my friends, expect to stand on them, I'm still unclear my fair-weather. Inside you…So tell me can you count, on any of those friends you made in bed, you made in vain?

Whoa, can you become everything I need in just the way of lying on your back open for me; for my selfish ways?
Let’s make you scream. Let’s make you scream.
Oh baby let’s see if you can handle…handle me.
Whoa, I’ll be simply taking all for me in hopes to be down between your knees, oh so patiently tasting everything.

Dear you, it's time to count my friends…expect to stand on them, I'm still unclear my fair-weather…so tell me can you count…on any of those friends you made in bed, you made in vain? Let’s see if you can handle me.