The Teaches of Peaches
So the words go:
Suckin on my titties like you wanted me/callin me/all the time like Blondie/check out my Chrissy behind/it's fine all of the time/like sex on the beaches/what else is in the teaches of Peaches?/Huh? Whut? Right? Uhh...
fuckthepainaway/fuckthepainaway/fuckthepainaway/fuckthepainaway (Repeat and fade.)
But of course, I don't sing the sucking part or the sex on the beaches or the fucking part. But Miles loves when I do the Huh/Whut/Right/Uhh.
"Momma, how do you know the Teaches of Peaches?"
Someday, when I am dead, he will be like that poor son in The Bridges of Madison County who had to read his mother's journals.
I have returned from my time with Jefferson. I'm working on the chronicles. And trying to remember details from within my endorphin-charged, blissed-out mind.