Sing to me that bling song, that kissing song,
The song you sing, when we bling, . . . my love.
Please don't cling me, just sing to me . . . with that ker-ching song.
Write a song, as a dove alone.
Thus to win me, please don't string me,
Better bling me, . . . with that ker-ching song.
Keep ker-chinging . . . with that kissing song.
Write some poetry, sung for me,
The bling you bring, numbs me,
Your poems sting me, . . . with that ker-ching song.
Now my love, with bling for free,
Such coquetry will bring poetry.
Sing to me, that ker-ching song, . . . . . . my love.
