With Swiss cheese upon her nails,
I blew the wind upon her sails,
pleasure and pain scratched down my back,
with my hunger I did attack.

Set her oven temp up high,
can hardly wait for her pie,
steaming, hot, and quickly ready,
and the aroma, always heady.

Oh I wish for crispy crust,
a way to contain my syrupy lust,
stuffed with fillings made of meat,
it would make my night complete.