She's on a beach in Maui
her b______ are half uncovered
I try to stop myself from staring at her b___ I'm drawn
like Dagwood to sleep
The lawn may need mowing but still I can't prevent my thoughts

From becoming obscene so I justify,
she's only a page in a magazine
She's not real, she doesn't feel.
Eyes pierce her scraps of cloth.
Her value is lost...

Crown of all creation, bane of jealous angels
She's nothing more to me than food for a fantasy
And though I know it's a shame, I won't turn away
My thoughts are so casually lead astray

And I know it's not right it feels so unclean
but she's just a page in a magazine
She's not real, she doesn't feel.
Eyes pierce her scraps of cloth.
Her value is lost...

49er, gold prospector.
Her body is my claim
As she a__umes some cheesy pose, imagination sees no clothes
And I don't even know her name
Her body breaks my mind's leash like Gus broke his chain

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