intro
Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex
Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex
Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex
Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex
verse
Nothing is provocative anymore, even for kids
No room for imagining, cause everyone's seen everything
Question what the TV tells you
Question what a pop star sells you
Question mom and question dad
Question good and question bad
hook
Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex
Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex
verse
If women were religiously recognized sexually
We wouldn't have to feel the need to show our ass-ets to feel free
Been there, done that, got the t-shirt
Sold my soul, and yeah, the truth hurt
Tired image of a star, acting naughtier than we really are
hook
Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex
Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex
Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex
Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex
outro
Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex
Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex
Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex
Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex