Re-chart my hairy territory
Dad's positively giddy,
About his new shock-cockring, controllable via MIDI.
A definite highlight of mum's bogs-memoirs,
Was her evening entertaining a group of well-hung Oompa-Loompas.
Weird little relax dad (on the stereo: Acker Bilk),
Shortly followed by a flaky emission, reminiscent of powdered milk.
To get to your mum in the gents it took the Bum-Doctors hours,
I'll visit the hospital tomorrow, y'know, to take her some flowers.
Dad’s method of noncing is mostly intellectual
Due to his willy being completely ineffectual
Make me the subject of an abhorrent
Poo-torrent.
For mum it’s a complete non-starter:
Bum-doc’s suggestion that blokes ‘go easy’ on her farter
Mum's touring the working men's clubs of Clwyd,
And already has an arsehole bursting with man-fluid.
When mum's in her Daisy Dukes,
Bogs-blokes really start firing nukes.
As mum's bum destruction time neared, it was anal doom the ambulance crews feared, and as the hoards of big blokes waiting leered, your dad just looked at the cocks and queered.
