I wish I were promiscuous, and slept with men all the time;
Indulge myself in decadent sex with a different one or more,
I'd keep it quiet, secret and discreet;
After all, I don't consider myself a whore.
I wish I could sleep with men, with abandon and care free;
It wouldn't matter whether they wanted my sex or me.
I would just get my jollies off, and he could get a bone.
And after the cigarette cooled down, I'd kick him out of my home.
I'd be a pussy magnet, colored condoms by the bed;
I'd come then toss them one after another;
They'd put up with it, because I know I'm good in bed.
If I were quick to share my prize, they'd wait in line for days;
They'd stay by their phones, leave messages on mine,
In hope that I would call their line;
And when I made that special call,
They would run before I could get dressed;
They would jump and lunge at my heaving breasts
They wouldn't know when I would say “It is "time".
I wish I were promiscuous, but I wasn't raised that way;
So I have to wait until I am chosen,
By a decent man who wants to stay.
But if I were promiscuous, one thing for sure I’d know;
I wouldn't have to seek out or roam.
For now I am a celibate, and very much alone.
8/16/99