Funk

You can keep your pop
Princes and princesses
They don't have the pipes
To win me over
And again
Like the original
Rhythm and bluesmen
And insatiable soulwomen
Who thrill me
Bend me over
And again
Just like the man
Whose fingers
Play me like a tenor horn
Screaming out syncopated
Sensations
The man
Whose tongue
Bites me like a brush
On a snare drum
Just enough sizzle
On the offbeat
To send me begging
For more fire
More funk in the four
Beats to the bar
The man
Whose eyes
Compel me to moan
Like a siren songstress
High on life and
White lightning