I’ll be your secretary, oh

I’ll fetch your vodka on the rocks

I’ll be your secretary, oh

I’ll reach up towards the highest shelf and

You’ll sidle up behind me

I do not know you’re there

Until I feel your hands are sliding

Hands up my two thighs and I…

And I want it violent

And I want it mental

And I want it gentle

I’ll be your secretary, oh

I’ll kneel down on the floor in front of you

I’ll be your secretary, oh

I’ll open up my mouth and you will

Lift me up and lay me over

Your secretary

Until I feel your hands are sliding

Hands up my two thighs and I…

And I want it violent

And I want it mental

And I want it gentle

I’ll be your secretary, oh

So kneel down on the floor in front of me

You’ll be my secretary, oh

Now come and be my Florence Nightingale

I want you in my apron

I want you to paint the walls

I want to come and smack you

Make you hot and sore

Now get down on the floor and I…

And I want it violent

And I want it mental

And I want it gentle

And I want it violent

And I want it mental

And I want it gentle

I’ll be your secretary, oh