God he is the author the creator of your sex,
And God creates the air that flows underneath your legs,
So why don’t you just lie back and think of bethlehem,
When will you lie with me again.
Last time we made love in Berlin, oh I noticed tiny bruises on your ankles,
Your hair was cut much shorter then it used to be you were looking European.
You said Honeypie push a little softer, Angelface come a little slower, be still and
I will make it easier for you,
The Angels designed buildings for the mighty new Berlin,
sweeping curves and parallel lines that let the daylight in,
and there beside the whore house is the church where we committed sin.