Baby hold me like your guitar,

Sing to me, tell me how it is,

Show me how talented you are,

It all comes down to this.

With one hand on my neck,

The other strums my strings,

And I’ll show you what comes next

When we do these dirty, filthy things.

We’ll move to the rhythm of your voice,

Anywhere from kitchen tables to hotel suites,

And we’ll have no choice

But to dance forever between these sheets.