“If you were to ask me what kind of musical sound I aspire to produce, that noise would be a wet nipple sliding across a cheese grater. I’m a sucker for love songs.”

“If your nipples were on your eyelids, then and only then would I give you eye contact while you are talking to me.”

“What I did I can’t undo. But I can address it, and undress you.” This is the chorus in a new song I’m writing called “Mannequin Love.”

“You tell me you love me, but I’m not sure you know what love is, or how fast it flies, or how much it resembles a UFO, or what kind of weapon you’d use to shoot it down.”

“If my love were a bagel, I’d put cream cheese on it. But it’s not a bagel, so I just put cheddar on top. Would you like to try a sample?”

“I ran a few miles, Davis, and they were musical. Then I made love like the sound of a trumpet, as heard by Helen Keller.”

“I’m sleepin’ in your pee pee, and I’m dreaming of what could be.” That’s just the chorus of a little love song I recently wrote.”