I am the man with the perfect sausage

There’s a sound coming out of my stomach
Do you know what it’s like?
BLUH-BLUH-BLUH-BLUH-BLUH
These sounds express with love how deep my love is for you
Yeah! It’s really deep, isn’t it?
Coming out of my stomach!
It’s a mixture of coffee, French beans and pudding
If you’re interested in the ingredients

I am the man with the perfect sausage
I am the man with the perfect sausage, yeah

What? You say I’m jealous?
And that I’m not wishing you joy with that other asshole?
Let me tell you something
If you wanna go up and down with a bunch of muscles it’s not my problem, baby

It’s your choice to look everytime into his doggy eyes
You said he looks like Iggy Pop but he looks like Jesus Christ
He may be a chucker-out with the balls of a horse
But he hasn’t got the perfect sausage, of course, because

I am the man with the perfect sausage
I am the man with the perfect sausage, yeah
I am the man with the perfect sausage
I am the man with the perfect sausage, yeah

And let his balls roll!

© 1996 Song and lyrics by Paul Schenk
Protected by Buma Stemra