There once was a girl from Mitchen|
Who was scratching her twat in the kitchen.
Her mother said, "Rose,
you've got crabs I suppose."
She said, "Yes and those fuckers are itchin'!"
There was a young sailor from Brighton|
Who said to his girl, "You're a tight 'un."
She replied, " 'Pon my soul,
You're in the wrong hole.
There's plenty of room in the right 'un."
There was a young man named Hughes|
Who swore off all kinds of booze.
He said, "When I'm muddled
My senses get fuddled,
And I pass up too many screws.
A lissom psychotic named Jane|
Once kissed every man on a train;
Said she, "Please don't panic!
I'm just nymphomanic.
It wouldn't be fun were I sane."
Said Freud, "I've discovered the Id.|
Of all your repressions be rid.
It won't ease the gravity
Of all the depravity,
But you'll know why you did what you did."
There once was a man from Van Isle|
Who said jogging just wasn't his style.
"I'll get my workouts," he said,
"At home, in my bed,"
"'Cause a Miss is as good as a mile!"
There once was a man from Peru,|
Who's limericks always end on line two.
There once was a fellow quite gingerie|
Who tore holes in his sister's best lingerie.
He slapped her behind
Then made up his mind
To add incest to insult and injury.
There once was a sailor from Brighton|
Who said to a lass, "You're a tight one."
She replied "'Pon my soul,
You're in the wrong hole!
There's plenty of room in the right one."