The Function Of The Orgasm

It`s half past eight, and I`m waiting In a beautiful place Anticipating everything we`ll do And all we`ll say. Till your father sees you again Now I don`t know just what you`re doing Is it me or him That you`re screwing? But I don`t care and you don`t care When you`re here Now the storm is here I see you running Your face full of tears. So red and burning And I can`t work out How you spend Another day with him Just say the word You know I`ll do it I`m waiting for you Just let me do it And we can run away to another place. Less full of fear.