You can plunge my sink (anytime)

(Intro – dreamy synths, cassette static, soft beat kicks in)

You got a tool belt hangin’ low,

I got a fuse box ready to blow—

Just two neighbors, workin’ hard

Underneath these innuendo stars.

(Verse 1)

She said, “Come through, my faucet’s busted.”

I said, “Only if we keep things trusted…”

Then she dropped a wrench, bent at the knees,

Said, “Oops—I think I found your spare house keys.”

I tightened a bolt, she watched me sweat

Said, “That’s the hottest plumber I’ve ever met.”

She passed me the tape, all slow and slick,

Whispered, “Wrap it tight… then give it a quick flick.”

(Pre-Chorus)

Now I’m stuck in her crawl space, deep and dark

She said, “Use your flashlight, and… mind the sparks”

I said, “It’s short-circuited, I’ll jiggle the wire,”

She said, “Just don’t touch that—it might start a fire.”

(Chorus)

You can plunge my sink, anytime

Grease my gears, I don’t mind the grime

Re-caulk my edges, line my seams

We’ll tile the walls and tile our dreams

Trim my shrubs, edge that path

Soak my soil in a sensual bath

It’s just repairs, baby, nothing too prime—

(But you can knock on my door when it’s plumbing time)

(Instrumental interlude – lo-fi drop, vinyl hiss, jazzy synth noodling)

(Verse 2)

Met a chef with a spicy tongue,

Said, “Wanna taste my buns? They’re fresh, not from a rung.”

She dusted flour across her chest

Said, “This apron’s tight, but I do my best.”

I preheated her oven, set to ‘Nice’

She said, “Come over here and roll my rice.”

I said, “That’s sushi, right?” She said, “You bet.”

“Now wrap me up and don’t break a sweat.”

(Bridge – soft layered harmonies)

There’s a teacher with a ruler grip

And a tailor who likes a tight little zip

The barista said, “Want a shot in the dark?”

Then winked and wrote her number on my heart

There’s a DJ who scratches more than vinyl

And a poet who said, “My meter’s primal”

The gardener said, “You can hoe my row,”

And I said, “Only if I get to plant and grow.”

(Chorus – lush harmonies, synth arps flutter behind)

You can tune my strings, anytime

Strum slow, let the chorus climb

Polish my brass, blow real sweet

Hit my bassline, skip no beat

You can wax my floor, fluff my chair

Dust the cobwebs—if you dare

It’s just routine, baby, totally benign

(But you can oil my hinges if you’ve got the time)

(Breakdown – tape hiss, muffled laugh, toy keyboard solo)

“She said, ‘Wanna rotate my mattress?’

I said, ‘Top or bottom?’—she said, ‘Yes.’”

(Verse 3 – almost whispered)

I met a lifeguard said, “Wanna test the deep end?”

Then tossed me a float and called me “my friend.”

The librarian whispered, “Silence please,”

But kept dropping books right by her knees.

The painter said, “My canvas is bare.”

I said, “Let’s add some color to this affair.”

She dipped my brush and licked the rim,

Then painted us both on a whim.

(Final Chorus – layered vocals, retro synth swells)

You can fix my shelf, sand my desk

Install some mood lights—go grotesque

Reboot my system, run diagnostics

Let’s troubleshoot some things