I was travellin' here and there, even knocking heaven's door,
Singing songs like you can hear to increase my chance to score.
And the truth that I have found needs no proof from Vatican:
Our Lord made girls with titties. It's the best that he has done.
Chorus:
Titties, titties, titties, titties, titties, titties,
titties, titties.
Sometimes you may meet some lasses – and you'd better pass them by,
Saying: "We don't sell our asses" – that is just a fuckin' lie.
You don't need to be that pretty, as a market study says:
If the lady has got titties, it's a treasure that she has.
Titties, titties, titties, titties, titties, titties, titties,
titties.
If you have nice-looking cleavage, there is nothing you can't do.
You don't think about living – living thinks about you.
You will get a help from strangers, everybody would be friends,
Who would save you from all dangers just to give
your tits a glance.
Titties, titties, titties, titties, titties, titties, titties,
titties.
You will have a fancy house; you will have a brand-new car.
Anywhere anyhow you'll be treated like a star.
No worries, no troubles, so the only thing you do
Is just waving tits around, letting people look at you.
Titties, titties, titties, titties, titties, titties, titties,
titties.
Tits – they rule the world, you know: east and west and north
and south.
Even babies in the cradles want to have them in the mouth.
But if aging had come close and your boobs are touching floor –
You just go to plastic surgeon. Now you're ready
for some more.
Titties, titties, titties, titties, titties, titties, titties,
titties.
Titties, titties, titties, titties, titties, titties, titties,
titties.