Wild Women Of Wongo

And so on and on the lores of Wongo go
Throughout the sands of time
Singing their song of love, so rare
To only the chosen ones who dare

From the foggy woggy banks of the Limpopo River
There come the sounds of female ecstasy (I shiver)
Wet and wanton, their cries caress by swollen ears
With building fears, of this forsaken land of years
Visions of furious fire-goddesses wielding
Blunt spits; figments of erotic escapades
With all branches of armed forces surrounding, abounding
They stoop to conquer with sighs and
Anxious whispers in a slow, steady rhythm

Wongo, wild women of Wongo
How does their song go?
Making me want more (wild women!)
Wongo, no man can say, "No"
Wild women of Wongo
How does their song go? Like this

On the dank, steaming shores of Wongo
It's black sand beaches, so bongo
Patterned with leech-ridden creatures
Bodies branded with cicatrix features
That once screeched through the heart of the Congo

Stacked and berserk they tower and flail all about
Wailing sounds in tongues only ancient
Insects would understand or figure out
Wild, willing, wenches; strutting and
Struggling, as they yank hanks of hair
Rooting and rutting in heat as the earth heaves beneath their feet

Wongo, wild women of Wongo
How does their song go?
Making me want more (wild women!)
Wongo, no man can say, "No"
Wild women of Wongo
How does their song go? Like this

And so on and on the lores of Wongo go
Throughout the sands of time
Singing their song of love, so rare
To only the chosen ones who dare

The course of events, time after time
The tradition remains the same
A bloodcurdling scream, one of pure
Ecstasy, rings out; then it came, the ultimate sacrifice

How can I resist this onslaught of love
From over, from under, from behind and above
I wish I could be their Wongo King
If only I knew the song to sing

Wongo, wild women of Wongo
How does their song go?
Making me want more (wild women!)
Wongo, no man can say, "No"
Wild women of Wongo
How does their song go? Like this