I’d rather be wonderfully wicked
And frightfully fascinating
Than be piously perfect
And dreadfully dull

I could be reliably righteous
And boringly bland
But why? when I’m daringly devious
And curiously captivating

To be goodly godly
Or delightfully devilish
How about moaning monotony
To my sensuous ****?

Never curiously kind
Without poorly plain
Always sweetly sinister
And always attractive

To be good, one must
Want to be good

But why be good
When you can be bad?