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My woman hangs locked in a box in my closet
but this is no prison - i'd pass on versailles
She waits there for just a few touches each week
i'm blessed, not deprived - that touch is my why

I worry, sometimes
because that's just you
How much more she deserves
okay ... that one is true!

When we are together
we are always together
When we are apart
no, two parts of one heart
She answers my want
wanton answers, i flaunt!

My woman hangs locked in a box in my closet
the key that is you is the key to me
She waits there for just a few touches each week
those few linger, linger, the finger of glee

And I wait to get back to her, hungry and pure,
I wait to entwine with her, certain and sure
and you, sir, have me and i have no need unmet
we are never a 'no,' only sometimes 'not yet.'