There's a hole in your pants, a hole in your pants
I want to be polite and look away but I can'tz
Though you may have a soul filled with puppies and gold
All I know is the hole in your pants
There's a hole in your pants as spacious as France
The placement so provocative it can't be by chance
'Cause the green dragonfly on the skin of your thigh
Draws the eye to the hole in your pants
And how dare you make me choose
between proper piety and the need to be amused at your fabric absentee?
And how dare you make me stare at the cloth that isn't there?
You've a flair for trouser-wear that's tantalizingly... bare
As you pose and you prance I'm caught in a trance
Unnerved by my urge to steal one more glance
My resolve's going numb
I confess I succumb
Overcome by the dumb little hole in your pants