Mum appears almost porcelain,
Because of perma-coating of the spunk of many men.
Mum's very much got an 'open door policy'
Regarding anything vaguely phallusy
The viewing galleries were completely packed,
Some holding binoculars so they could see clear and exact,
The closing moments of what has been a quite memorable sex-act,
Involving, blokes, objects and your mother's entire gastrointestinal tract.
Flitted from this to that,
then shat.
Your dad requires specialist made-to-measure tweezers,
For when he wants to try and put his willy in geezers.
Dad thought he'd try his luck with online dating,
Oh-no though, he's listed his only interest as 'genital cheese-grating.'
Dad's concerned with the optics
of his prick that's not thick(s).
Dad permanently looks forlorn,
Because willy size = newborn.
It really grieves us, that your father's got no penis.
It certainly beat the normal shite you get on Saturday night TV,
That time your mum appeared on The Generation Game and was basically fucked in three.
