"Oh, your mother rang,
She's entertaining a German biker gang."
Mum starts to feel a kind of "cosmic oneness",
When her bumhole's knackered, and she's covered in dogs' mess.
I've been on bogs-hols with you mum in Bratislava,
We met a Slovak biker gang, who basically fucking halved 'er.
Make my arsehole miles bigger,
Then pull the 'sperm trigger.'
Occasionally, mum reasserts the bogs ground rules:
There needs to be pricks that are thicks, piss, and, of course, stools.
These days, mum's twat-tackle,
Appears hopelessly ramshackle.
Mum is being absolutely sincere,
In her desire for blokes with beer diarrhoea.
Dad wears the kind of loose fitting clobber,
That means he can very easily show the public his nobber.
Mum doesn't feel it's in any way tacky,
To launch a new bogs night: 'Cheese, Wine and Bukkake.'
Dad asked to leave parents evening,
Due to his enquiries about other children along with heavy breathing.
