Making Mandy Beg

In New Orleans for some highjinks. Here to rally ‘round the flag. She’ll be open to suggestion When I’ve got her bound and gagged. I won’t need to solve the riddle Of the chicken or the egg To distinguish first from foremost While I’m making Mandy beg. You can bet your bottom dollar Gonna taste forbidden fruit On a fragrant bed of roses In this house of ill repute. Hog the limelight. Gild the lily. Need to take her down a peg, Teach her all the whys and wherefores As I’m making Mandy beg. There be rotten things in Denmark: Humble pie and bathtub gin, Sour grapes with gall & wormwood, Magdalena’s Den of Sin. Gonna need a pot to piss in. Go and tap another keg. She’ll be forced to face the music When I’m making Mandy beg. There’ll be ample food for thought When I talk turkey with the cook. I’ll be tickling her fancy Till she babbles like a brook. Then I’ll call her on the carpet As the juice runs down her leg. Demon rum, Miss Goodie Two-shoes, I’m just making Mandy beg.