It is with a mixture of pride and courage,
That mum produces her daily prolapse porridge.
Mum's been accused of being antisemitic,
After revealing Netanyahu "wasn't very thick."
Dad's finally scored with the decrepid Barbara Streisland,
Mum's frozen her own cunt off;
Yep, she's been to Iceland.
Bogs-marketing stats show mum's most in demand,
From the demographic sector "low cognition farmhand."
Your mum's in constant demand in the train station bogs,
despite her face resembling 'a box of frogs'.
Mum has a nasty infestation of crotch-crickets,
Dad seems obsessed with looking at other blokes' middle-wickets.
Your father's on his balm-potty
(wrong insertion: tree trunk),
he plugged himself with a Sycamore
(then ingested a sizable chunk).
Bogs-blokes stand back and grab the popcorn,
As in slopes a drooling Big "Willy" MacMassive, out of hibernation and with an extremely visible horn.
When even the big gents-blokes seem a bit small,
Mum opts to get fucked by the council wrecking ball.
Mum's organised the annual Bogs Easter Egg Hunt,
Up her cunt!
