This is not my ideal woman. This is what happens when I let my brain run outside with the sprinkler on.

She said she never talked to strangers
But none were stranger than her old man
She communicated with grunts and clicks
She's my beach tanned bimbo aborigine bushman

Straight out of National Geographic
She had a bone through her nose
She wasn't hardly the romantic type
She enjoyed a snack when I gave her a rose

Ahhh na na na naaaa
Grrrr *click* Grrrrr *click* *click* *pop*

She loved me like a gator loved his food
She put me in an ancient tribal mood

We had our first date by a bonfire
Wearing masks and paint on our bare chests
I was hypnotized by the traditional rain song
And by the swaying motion of her breasts.

Her family welcomed me with open arms
Which was a delicacy in that clan
Those lips, those eyes, the delicate hands,
All sauteed in a pan