“So I wanted to ask you something You can't get laid in 15 minutes Adults do it to provoke the hollow Live in disgust, but enjoy the scene Crema, stop in the dust your taste of existing To enjoy in peace, soak the crotch gap On the way to that little time vesuvius that turns into a puddle on the scar You can't fuck in 15 minutes Because even cigars need time lit to burn Because until 3 am, there's talk of wine and silk, it's for touching You can't fuck in 15 minutes Because expectations are often not created just Before it happens, there's crying in bed, changing pajamas There's an eye that, while I'm passing the coffee, calls me, declaims It nastily spills the stem, the bud, the tow of being and being Don't fuck in 15 minutes, no run away, don’t live in fright Pedala and, if it hurts, I’ll poke you Get hitched, bite me in the mucus.” Liniker