"

Like a cannon stuffed with cannonballs, my head was stuffed with songs. Night after night, day after day, week after week, I kept firing a cannon that never emptied. … I couldn’t rein in my music any more than a fisherman could rein in an alligator.

I was still reaching for more daring metaphors. I believed I caught a good one with ‘Sex in the Kitchen,’ where I was able to marry two human comforts—food and sex.

Girl, you’re in the kitchen
Cookin’ me a meal
Somethin’ makes me wanna come in there and get a feel
Walk around in your t-shirt
Nothing else on
Struttin’ past
Switchin’ that ass
While I’m on the phone
I want sex in the kitchen
Over by the stove
Put you on the counter
By the butter rolls
Hands on the table
On your tippy toes
We’ll be making love
Like the restaurant was closed

"

— R. Kelly, “Soulacoaster: The Diary of Me”