Oh Mrs. Thompson,
Won't you open your legs again?
I miss the times when we would bump and fight,
And then make love.

And sweet sweet Delilah,
How sweet you do sit,
Upon my back,

Oh and my lover,
How lightly you tred,
Upon my bed,

And now I'm just a crime,
Upon this city,
Oh watch me wriggle oh for my life,
And if a thousand men,
Couldn't put me together again,
Then who am I?

Oh my Christina,
How I do miss your thighs,
And sweet sweet Delilah,
How sweet you must sit,
Upon my back,

And now I'm just a crime,
Upon this city,
Oh watch me wriggle oh for my life,
And if a thousand men,
Couldn't put me together again,
Then who am I?



Lígia M. Ferreira