Lolita, you've seen your pal Marylou
who's fifteen like you, who I always knew
You have seen how she has changed suddenly ?
Well, my dear sweetie, she's lost her cherry..
Can't blame it on her ! hey it's not a crime !
It's barely a sin, of the smallest kind
According to her pal who snitched on her
It's in mid-August she lost her cherry.
It's more for show-off than it's for the thrill
That, one desperate night, some nice little schmuck
just caught the tassel - a strike of good luck.
He picked the cherry before the season.
Apart from the joy of shocking her old ones
There was no hurry, no emergency
The romance lasted little time, after all.
She lost her cherry - two minutes in all.
Coz for performance and for ecstasy,
the poor unlucky gal had met a dolt
Ugly as can be, hopeless and clumsy
As cherry-picker, worth nothing at all.
She's lost her cherry, too bad or too good,
T'was a veggie wolf,
not a wolf to marry.
Don't want to slander,
or to say bunkum,
It's said her mother met a pack of them...
As for you, my dear, my lovely virgin,
Keep on sucking your thumb, playing hopscotch
What Marylou did, you don't care , so drop
it, her cherry-eater was a villain.
Yet, I hope, my girl, that when the time comes
to enter that gaol, there under your dress
The fruit-eating wolf will please you as much
for his lovely heart as for his deftness.
If he's, on that fine day, soft as a lamb,
Give him all your love
as a pack of gifts
On top of that diamond that you still
keep -how long, how long?-
somewhere in your lap.