I'll be your secretary, oh I'll fetch your vodka on the rocks I'll be your secretary, oh I'll reach up towards the highest shelf and You'll sidle up behind me I do not know you're there Until I feel your hands are sliding Hands up my two thighs and I... And I want it violent And I want it mental And I want it gentle I'll be your secretary, oh I'll kneel down on the floor in front of you I'll be your secretary, oh I'll open up my mouth and you will Lift me up and lay me over Your secretary Until I feel your hands are sliding Hands up my two thighs and I... And I want it violent And I want it mental And I want it gentle I'll be your secretary, oh So kneel down on the floor in front of me You'll be my secretary, oh Now come and be my Florence Nightingale I want you in my apron I want you to paint the walls I want to come and smack you Make you hot and sore Now get down on the floor and I... And I want it violent And I want it mental And I want it gentle And I want it violent And I want it mental And I want it gentle I'll be your secretary, oh