She's the type of prize that could easily turn your current girlfriend into your ex

She's got legs with defined lines in the calves from standing in high heels

And she's giving you all the signs that she would like you fill her night with endless moans and squeals

But, before you make that move, think a second bucko, unhand that pork

This isn't someone with which to share an afterglow, she's someone with which to work

If men are dogs, then learn from dogs and don't shit where you eat

Because when you lay it down, the smell of your past isn't too discrete

You have to look at her the next day no matter how bad the experience

Not only that, everything you say will have a much larger audience

See, that fine ass woman is friends with quite a few others who you see day to day

And now they all know you're Yay big [hold up pinkie], and giggle whenever you come their way

You'll have to deal with weeks of stress from the endless gossip

About how she made you put on a nun's outfit and then strip

People walking by you all day making laughing signs of the cross

Being given a beautiful set of rosary beads by your departmental boss

Granted that that girl has an ass to cast aside most dispersions

But, you decide to work that thing and the whole office will be privy to all your perversions

If you think that you can handle everyone knowing what you, her, her aunt, and that goat did

And you think that having these stories spread about won't get you demoted

Then, by all means, shed your inhibitions and give yourself a treat

But, I'll try to live by my words because you shouldn't shit where you eat.

-David "Dingo" Bleecher