Dad's bragging about his freshly made ravioli,
But there are strong suspicions that it contains something unholy.
tend towards feelings of sadness and loss, gather together (male group penis toss)
Mum's retirement plan,
Involves, inevitably, loads of man.
There is a sense of mounting distress,
As dad, once again in the playground, begins to undress.
At the bum-docs, mum's being economical with the truth,
When reporting both the sizing and number of blokes she's recently had up her poo-booth.
Rewrite all famous songs featuring the word ‘kiss’ but replacing it with the word ‘piss’
Now the tree's been put away, for your mum, it's back to the grind,
And the very serious business of letting blokes destroy her behind.
Fresher bogs-sluts browse the Bogs-College curriculum,
Bouyed to see mum'll be teaching how to take the big lads up the bum.
One of mum's bogs-fuck musts,
Is for blokes to maximise their thrusts.
Mum will often vaguely hear the dawn chorus,
As the last few dozen bogs-blokes file through her anus.
