Sex, sex, sex, sex,
Sex, sex, sex, sex
Yeah
Sex, sex, sex, sex,
Sex, sex, sex, sex
Nothing is provocative anymore
Even for kids
No room for imagining
Cause everyone's seen everything
Question what the TV tells you
Question what the pop stars tell you
Question mum, question dad
Question good and question bad
Sex, sex, sex, sex,
Sex, sex, sex, sex
Yeah
Sex, sex, sex, sex,
Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex
If women were religiously
Recognized sexually
We would't have to feel
The need to show our ass,
Is to feel free
Been there, done that
Robbed the tissues
Sold my soul
And yeah the truth hurts
Tired again
Acting naughty