After the church's Sunday afternoon children's service, now begins the inquest,
Into how long dad was stood in the Nativity scene undressed.
Mum's plan?
Taking pricks from massive to gargantuan.
After taking on a very large bogs-group,
Mum's arsehole needs time to re-group.
Dad was wrong when thought he might be more of an attractive man,
The evening he went out after applying his own shit as a sort of fake tan.
Bogs-blokes know a complaint will be raised,
If mum hasn't been sufficiently glazed.
Dad's reached the stage,
Of hanging around the orphanage.
Mum's twat able to take just about any size member,
Her arsehole?
Well, that's a desensitisation chamber.
Mum, ignoring bum-docs’ pleas to ease up on the big blokes: ‘YOLO’
Dad, bedsit cry-wanking solo
At the end of the day, when all's said and done,
Who's still there in the gents?
Good old mum.
Put my name up in lights,
Then ignore my basic human rights.
