Every bite's moist, every time.

¿What kind of big cake
Is sweeter when the cake's fake,
and hotter when it don't bake?

¿Bigger than a breadbox,
Longer than a dreadnaught,
Till you're louder than a boombox?

Off go the tearaway snap-pants,
Down come the chopper;
Death by chocolate lapdance.

[Chorus]
Bass, treble, pumpin' out,
From the cake I come jumpin' out,
Replete with muscle grease,
Oh, Clarice, how divine!
¡Duh-Ding-Ding!
Goes the oven clock, I'm cooling off,
Break out the frosting,
Beefcake, back for more

Every bite's moist, every time.

Blow out the candle,
Your wish for a man will
Getcha more than you can handle:

Chiseled and single,
With a swingin' can of Pringles,
But devoutly cunnilingal.

You thought that you were exhaustin'
All of your options,
Till you found the can of frostin'.

[Chorus]

[Bridge 1]
Man-candy,
Adherent to the doctrine,
Passed the test you're proctorin';
Conductor of desire conducts them like a treble choir with his helicopterin'.
¡Oh, Beefcake!
Stuff his speedo with cash,
He'll even take out the trash,
'n' put away the dishes without being asked.

[Bridge 2]
¿Maybe there's a race of men building cake cocoons,
from which they'll emerge, to make you swoon?
Their icing glistens in the night;
When their man-tennae
And your she-quency are in tune,
All of their layers will answer your prayers by a
Sucrose-ficial rite.

Bakeries everywhere
Hatch men in gold underwear,
Replete with shortenin' grease,
Oh, my, Clarice, how divine!
¡Duh-Ding-Ding!
Goes the bakers' clocks,
And from their smocks,
Fresh dollar bills for
Beefcakes, back for more,
In every flavor a tongue could savor:

Jocks, Rockers, Surfer Dudes,
In fondant-ured servitude,
To the whims of every quim
They're fallin' into tonight.
Puh-pop-pop-poppin' out, like Russian dolls;
Our rush enthralls,
So break out the frosting: Beefcake,
Back for more,
Till every cake erupts with a man and a dance floor.

[Chorus]

Sticky 'n' wet, with a pink rosette.

[Chorus]

Every bite's moist, every time.