Lyrics:

If I don't have sex by the end of the week,
I'm going to die.
If I don't feel a pair of soft lips on my own,
oh, I'm going to hang my head and cry.
If I don't feel warm breath on the nape of my neck,
or feel a nice post-coital sigh.
C'mon baby, you can tell the cops why&


And ya don't know the ice,
ice cold vice that grips my head.
And ya don't know the burning,
the burning I feel when I try to get out of bed .
And ya don't know how these urges,
all these urges,
all these urges,
can be so very very misread.
C'mon baby, was it something I said?


When it's there,
it's either day or night,
you know it's girl o'clock.
I don't know,
but I've been told it's so,
you know it's good as gold,
you know it's tick-tock ya don't stop.

If I don't have a nervous breakdown by the end of the week,
I'm going to be very,
very surprised