Love Is... (Live)

Um, so this next song is about love, appropriately

[Verse 1: Bo Burnham]
I love you like kings love queens
Like a gay geneticist loves designer jeans
I need you like New Orleans needs a drought
Like Hitler's father needed to learn to pull out
And I want you, yeah, like a lawyer/mathematician wants some kind of proof
And I want you, yeah, like JFK wanted a car with a roof
Because love is takin' a dive
Then gettin' really comfortable and peein' in the pool
And love is real-life porn, minus all the stuff that makes porn cool

And love is a homeless guy searching for treasure
In the middle of the rain and finding a bag of gold coins
And slowly finding out that they're all filled with chocolate
And even though he's heartbroken, he can't complain 'cause he was hungry in the first place

Because I love you like Dora loves maps
Like the Pope's toilet loves holy craps
I need you like a voyeur needs a branch
Like boys tossing salad needs a little bit of Neverland Ranch
And I want you, yeah, like all the Gothic kids
That look exactly the same never want to conform

And I want you like Anne Frank wanted
Nobody to read her fucking diary
'Cause a diary's a collection of secret things
No one is suppose to read thats the whole point of a diary
Millions of people have breached this little girls privacy
After she was chased by Nazis, kick her while she's down

And if we met in 10,000 BC I was your caveman you's my cavelady
If we got hot we'd start rubbing
If we got hungry we'd go clubbing
Theres wooly mammoths but I will protect us
You're making me devolve to a Homo Erectus. Motherfucker

And if we met in 1780
I was a white Southern aristocratic plantation owner
And you were my dark-skinned servant lady
Slave, whenever I could get away from the misses
I'd go to your shed and then I'd steal you kisses
But let's be serious, I'd still work you full time as a slave
There's a difference between romantic language
And a complete disregard for socio-economic trends

And if we met in 1941
I was a Nazi, you's a Gypsy on the run
That's a little redundant
That, probably wouldn't've worked out

Because love is your favorite food for every breakfast, lunch and dinner
And love is the Holocaust if you don't die quick and you don't get thinner
And love is being the owner of the company that makes rape whistles
And even though you started the company with good intentions trying to reduce the rate of rape
Now you don't want to reduce it at all, 'cause if the rape rate declines
You'll see an equal decline in whistle sales
Without rapists, who's gonna buy your whistles?
Yeah, love is all about... Whistles
Thank you

Uh, that one was a bit vulgar, but uh, y'know
Dicks and vaginas are kinda like Coke and Pepsi, y'know
Uh, I strongly prefer one but my dad thinks they taste the same