There was a young girl named Prentice|
Who had an affair with her dentist.
He used anathesia
Which made things quite easier
And diddled her non compos mentis.
A man loved a gal named Bundy|
Who came from the Bay of Fundy.
But to his despair,
She gave him the air
Sic transit gloria mundi.
There was a young maid from Madras,|
With a most remarkable ass.
Not pump, round and pink,
As you undoubtably think;
But, grey, with long ears, and ate grass!
A lady on climbing Mount Shasta|
Complained as the mountain grew vaster,
That it wasn't the climb
Nor the dirt nor the grime
But the ice on her ass that harassed her.
There was a young man from St. Paul's|
Who read Harper's Bazaar and McCall's
Till he grew such a passion
For feminine fashion
That he knitted a snood for his balls.
There once was a girl from New Haven|
Whose pubic hair was not shaven
But missing because
She slept without drawers
Within range of a nest building raven.
A pathetic old maid of Bordeaux|
Fell in love with a dashing young beau.
To entice his regard
She would squat in his yard
And appealingly piss in the snow.
A corpulent lady named Kroll|
Had an idea exceedingly droll:
She went to a ball
Dressed in nothing at all
And backed in as a Parker House roll.
A sweet young strip-dancer named Jane|
Wore five inches of thin cellophane.
When asked why she wore it,
She said, "I abhor it,
But my cunt juice would spatter like rain."
There was a young fellow from Sparta,|
A really magnificent farter,
On the strength of one bean
He'd fart God Save The Queen,
And Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata.