Countless encounters, and counting still
Hopelessly hopeful that you'll fulfill
Desire and fire, aspire your skill
Clutching and touching, with all of my will
I've got will
Shaking and aching, awaiting the thrill
Shaking and aching, but there is no thrill
Countless encounters, and counting still
Of men that don't care for my pleasure until
They groan and they moan, with voices so shrill
Without giving back what is owed to fulfill
Got no will?
Shaking and aching, but there is no thrill
Countless encounters, and counting still
Of men that the pleasure of women will kill