Boma had braved his hardon
He climbed everest, I beg your pardon
Wedding night sent shocksparks through his groin
He is hot and boiling with nothing covering his loin
His luscious bride is tear rubber
He will dance in the rain, no need for rubber
He gropes in the dark but candlelight are lit
She's tucked under folds of the sheet
He has been hot, keeping the heat like a thermoflask
But tonight, he is ready for the bloody task

The task is not simple at all
The night is short, and tears fall
Tears stumble along beaten path
The hands of the night could not hold his wrath
Boma's erection plunged into a well
And you say he is married, you say it is well
As for her, the shame is too long
Her thornbush of a garden is not what's wrong
It is not even the breast that swings like pendulum
It is the width times depth times cum

The damaged goods builds a pyramid of deceit
Standard organisation of Nigeria must see the receipt
No no no, the pope must hear this
Is this what being born again is?
What quantity of truth can win trust for her lips
Her aperture has plunged his heart into eclipse
Honey was absent in the moon that cataclysmic night
The night was heavy but his heart light
Vultures still scrub blood off the love he had for her
It was a vinegar-moon with a drowsy star