Mum came up with a very quickly discarded plan,
That involved the crazy idea of her entertaining slightly thinner man.
On the street for a quid it's whopper and chips,
in the slum with your mum, it's cun' and slit-dips.
Bogs-blokes know that mum isn't seeking any kind of romance or glamour,
She just needs blokes to hold the fuck-pace of an industrial jackhammer.
Dad's the editor of, and main contributor to, new magazine;
'My Papercut Fanny's Pristine!'
Dad's page on Wikipedia,
Is dominated by his crimes of paedophilia.
Mum's not wary of 'Greeks bearing gifts'
(Especially those with capacity to cause serious anal rifts)
For mum, nothing celebrates the Festival of Noel,
More than a proper stuffing in the bowel.
Dad's trapped in a seemingly never ending physiological vortex,
In which he prefers kids, publicly exposes himself, and has a tiny, thin willy that never erex.
Mum went off to the 'Bum-'Ole Destruction Spring Fayre,'
Came back with anus-status: beyond repair.
Dad's just left the photocopier,
"brown-smeared, smellier and sloppier."
