I am strange, want to touch? I don't like me very much.
But I do crave all attention, I am always worth a mention.
I like fads, I'm obsessive, I can sometimes sound aggressive.
From a Heavy Metal Harlot, to British Steele without the barnet.
You could pay to lick my clit, and to stare at my pierced tit.
With my bald head and bare feet, how I like to hit the street.
Regan Thorne and Turtlequeen, all of my names you've all seen.
Then my Tawny stage off dread, and extremely pierced big head.
All I eat is bacon baps, then I take long lazy naps.
I'd like to amputate my leg, then replace it with a peg.
Smothered in food, naked in paint, I know no bounds, with no restraint.
I've had baked beans stuck up my rectum, and a piercing through my septum.
Mangos make my man explode, from his anus fluid flowed.
I like piercings, no I don't, call me women, no you won't.
I am one without a gender, my fake boobs are not so slender.
Now I write, yes I'm an author, with a book about some daughter.
How I'd love it to be published, all I get is bloody rubbished.
Many years spent on my knees, all that time trying to please.
My old man he didn't mind, not so manly now he's mine.
Now it's time for two more tricks, goodbye Cleo, now Felix.
As I'm not quite happy with that, I make my hubby look a prat.
Hello Lilith goodbye Adam, I've turned you into my next madame.
