Bogs-blokes know that dog-cack,
Is, for mum, an aphrodisiac.
Another night of anal doom looms,
Queue of big blokes outside your bedroom(s).
Dad starts getting a small bit hard,
Just putting on his children's hospital access pass lanyard.
Unfasten my bra… with hilarious consequences
Routine bogs-shift for mum, getting nailed up the farter,
Dad skulking around outside, persona non-grata.
Dad’s hyping himself up listening to his Lighthouse Family CD
Before heading to the playground to engage in behaviour that’s seedy
Mum’s happy when the bogs is filled with experienced ‘old hands’
Who eschew the use of lubes on their callused, warty glans
In 1972, dad represented Great Britain in the Paralympics,
Winning gold in the 400 metres breast-stroke: category 'men with no pricks.'
It's more a functional rather than romantic gesture,
That pre-shift, mum opts to remove her dentures.
Dad claims his "truth" is that he's simply the kind of person,
Who needs to show his willy to children.
