O, Dalai Lama
You cute Tibetan
I wish you’d hold me in your oms all night and day
My heart beats faster
When we’re together
Your luscious, lustrous lama love cures all my woes

Before I met you, hunky monk, I was a Rasta
But that all changed the day I felt your dreamy dharma
Though it’s a shame you do not have a sweet angora
Your bodhi’s so hot that I don’t care

My darling lama
With skin like leather
Let my lips iron out those wrinkles in your face
My long-lived lover
And priestly pleasure
I love you more than you love wearing crimson robes

I see reflected on your glasses both our futures
Our love will shine bright like an oily golden Buddha
And though you’ll die soon and come back as a raisin
I’m your sultana
No matter what

My dearest lama
With peanut texture
We have amazing, aging, Beijing-hating dates
My king of karma
The war on terror
Is jealous of the sparks we make each time we snog

My dashing lama
So very precious
Although you’re not a bovine, you’re still my beefcake
You milk my ardour
‘Cause you kiss better
Than all Earth’s missionaries, witchdoctors and popes

You’re my nirvana
You Buddhalicious man