Mum's surrounded by hangers-on and sycophants,
Who all have one thing in mind: getting in her pants.
Here's the good news!
I refuse to use lubes!
Mum's completely smashed on Russian vodka,
Emitting a constant stream of transparent diarrhoea.
Big gents-bloke going at it from a particularly tight angle,
Causing further destruction to mum's 'pubic triangle.'
To get to your mum in the gents it took the Bum-Doctors hours,
I'll visit the hospital tomorrow, y'know, to take her some flowers.
The morning after a bogs-shift, mum's lucky if her anus,
Returns to size-setting "open tub of humus."
I beseech thee:
do me, repeatedly!
destroy my arsehole completely!
Dad's answer during the police interview was "because I look cute,"
To the question "why were you in a playground dressed in a young girl's swimsuit?"
Dad's been rushed to A&E,
After ramming too much stuff up where he poo&wee.
Mum’s post-bogs bum annihilation state
Means her stools are a hitherto unheard of Bristol type 8
