You won't truss me up;
My lusts are strange
You huff in rebuff,
In fact, "deranged."
I offer you line--
You politely decline.
You spurn the cat o' nine,
And you won't beat me
(You won't beat me).

I don't know why you
Just can't abide
A lashing. . .eschew
Tanning my hide.

Macht nichts what I say;
Mas'chists you will not flay.
So I won't squirm away,
'cause you won't beat me
(You won't beat me).

Stripe after stripe. . .
You refuse to be complicit.
Won't take a swipe
Or even play for me "Whip It."

There's no flays from you;
That's become clear.
What I've got into
Brings me no cheer.
You jeer me: It's wrong. . .
Girl with an arm strong
To lay a lash upon.
No, you won't beat me
(You won't beat me).

Swipe after swipe. . .
You refuse to be complicit.
I start to gripe;
You dismiss me as a sick twit.

So I say to you:
"Alright, my dear,
Can't talk you into
Leashing my rear.
So I'll run along
To girls with arms strong
And they'll teach me I'm wrong:
In [parochial] school, they'll beat me
(School they'll beat me),
School they'll beat me
(Ruler-beat me).