And so on and on the lores of Wongo go
Throughout the sands of time
Singing their song of love, so rare
To only the chosen ones who dare
From the foggy woggy banks of the Limpopo River
There come the sounds of female ecstasy (I shiver)
Wet and wanton, their cries caress by swollen ears
With building fears, of this forsaken land of years
Visions of furious fire-goddesses wielding
Blunt spits; figments of erotic escapades
With all branches of armed forces surrounding, abounding
They stoop to conquer with sighs and
Anxious whispers in a slow, steady rhythm
Wongo, wild women of Wongo
How does their song go?
Making me want more (wild women!)
Wongo, no man can say, "No"
Wild women of Wongo
How does their song go? Like this
On the dank, steaming shores of Wongo
It's black sand beaches, so bongo
Patterned with leech-ridden creatures
Bodies branded with cicatrix features
That once screeched through the heart of the Congo
Stacked and berserk they tower and flail all about
Wailing sounds in tongues only ancient
Insects would understand or figure out
Wild, willing, wenches; strutting and
Struggling, as they yank hanks of hair
Rooting and rutting in heat as the earth heaves beneath their feet
Wongo, wild women of Wongo
How does their song go?
Making me want more (wild women!)
Wongo, no man can say, "No"
Wild women of Wongo
How does their song go? Like this
And so on and on the lores of Wongo go
Throughout the sands of time
Singing their song of love, so rare
To only the chosen ones who dare
The course of events, time after time
The tradition remains the same
A bloodcurdling scream, one of pure
Ecstasy, rings out; then it came, the ultimate sacrifice
♪
How can I resist this onslaught of love
From over, from under, from behind and above
I wish I could be their Wongo King
If only I knew the song to sing
Wongo, wild women of Wongo
How does their song go?
Making me want more (wild women!)
Wongo, no man can say, "No"
Wild women of Wongo
How does their song go? Like this