Oh Hawkeye, your name’s a distraction
from that which is your main attraction,
Though your eyes may peer,
at your butt where’s we leer.
It’s an ass of the finest extraction.
With each arrow you pull from your quiver
my loins take up a new shiver.
My aim’s also true;
I know just what I’ll do
to your body, so stand and deliver.
Hawkeye’s a gent made for brooding,
but his mien and physique, they are feuding.
His glare says “Away!”,
but his bum begs me stay
to immediately proceed with the nude-ing.
Your arms or your ass — which is best?
How ‘bout you take me back to your nest.
I’m an expert, you see;
a few hours with me
and I know you’ll forget Budapest.
Sweet Hawk, you arouse all my passion;
to your lips, my own I would fasten.
Even when you went bad
still your looks drove me mad —
‘cause you put the ass in assassin.