Asked my daddy when I was thirteen:   "Daddy can you tell me what love really means?"   His eyes went glassy, not a word was said   He poured another beer and his face turned red   Asked my mother, she acted the same   She never looked up; she seemed so ashamed   Asked my teacher, he reached for the cane   He said, don't mention that subject again   (So I read about love) read it in a magazine   (Read about love) Cosmo' and Seventeen   (Read about love) In the back of a Hustler, Hustler, Hustler   So I know what makes girls sigh   And I know why girls cry   So don't tell me I don't understand   What makes a woman and what makes a man   I've never been to heaven but at least   I've read about love   My big brother told me when I was fourteen   "It's time I showed you what love really means   Girls like kissing and romance too   Well a boy's got to know what a man's got to do."   He gave me a book; the cover was plain   Written by a doctor with a German name   It had glossy pictures; serious stuff   I read it seven times, then I knew it well enough   (Read about love) now I've got you   (Read about love) where I want you   (Read about love) I got you on the test-bed, test-bed, test-bed   So why? Don't you moan and sigh?   And why? Do you sit there and cry?   I do everything I'm supposed to do   But something's wrong and it must be you   I know the ways of a woman; I've read about love   Well, well, well, when I touch you there it's supposed to feel nice   That's what it said in Reader's Advice   I've never been to heaven but at least   I've read about love      [An *infamous* Thompson guitargasm]