Оригинален текст
I'm about the hunt
She's feelin' my poetry
I'm about the onslaught
She ain't feelin' my luxury
You never want to leave
The local library
She always thought
That you might understand
Her name was Audre and
She had a lot to say
She didn't warn me with
Her cultural display
When I wattle my hand
She'll say that it's sweet
I go back to her throat
She'll say that I won't let her be
You never want to leave
The local library
She always thought
That you might understand
Her name was Audre and
She had a lot to say
She didn't warn me with
Her cultural display