Dad's not kidding,
When he says he's "going kidding."
Your mum's got watery fart curry (it's gone a bit bland like a dahl),
Dad's here to save the day though:
he's administrating a 'hot carl'.
Mum’s not got much truck with Sir Keith Starmer
Her favoured candidate is Big Bloke Barry AKA ‘Bumhole harmer’
Mum’s entertaining ‘gentlemen of limited intelligence’
In the gents.
Mum's 1960s PhD thesis remains seminal,
The title: 'Anal Accommodation of Large Male Genitals.'
Dad's listening to pop-chill-pioneer PM Dawn;
Slack packet twitchless;
Penis = S.O.R.N.
Bum-metricians estimate that, to a first approximation,
Mum's had "fucking loads of anal penetration".
Oh fuck!
My head's stuck
(welded tight: faecal muck)
never one to wave the white flag,
that's your dad, cum drenched in a body bag.
