Mum's never going to win any beauty pageants,
Her bogs-ravaged cunt and tits are in fucking fragments.
Jesus, what's that infernal din?
Oh, it's just your mum having her bum stoved in.
Your mum's daft;
She's just knitted a knob scarf,
from all the crusty spunk-scum clogging up the bath.
Out of touch Dad claiming to have reached the end of Donkey Kong
In the mistaken belief kids will be impressed and be willing to touch his Wonkey Dong
Mum's ringing Deliveroo,
To see if they can send out some fresh dog-poo.
A much loved part of the bogs seasonal festivities,
Is mum's end of shift production of 'bum Bailey's.'
Dad's realised they don't hand out any medals,
For curbing his interest in kiddie fiddles.
On the day the Russians launched Sputnik
Mum celebrated in the bogs getting Spunktin
living in constant fear,
of your dad's promise to gape my rear.
What's the reported public indecency?
Dad's ring plundered with disturbing frequency.