Secretary

I’ll be your secretary, oh
I’ll fetch your vodka on the rocks
I’ll be your secretary, oh
I’ll reach up towards the highest shelf and
You’ll sidle up behind me
I do not know you’re there
Until I feel your hands are sliding
Hands up my two thighs and I…
And I want it violent
And I want it mental
And I want it gentle
I’ll be your secretary, oh
I’ll kneel down on the floor in front of you
I’ll be your secretary, oh
I’ll open up my mouth and you will
Lift me up and lay me over
Your secretary
Until I feel your hands are sliding
Hands up my two thighs and I…
And I want it violent
And I want it mental
And I want it gentle
I’ll be your secretary, oh
So kneel down on the floor in front of me
You’ll be my secretary, oh
Now come and be my Florence Nightingale
I want you in my apron
I want you to paint the walls
I want to come and smack you
Make you hot and sore
Now get down on the floor and I…
And I want it violent
And I want it mental
And I want it gentle
And I want it violent
And I want it mental
And I want it gentle
I’ll be your secretary, oh