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There is a professor named Martin
From whom I'm about to be partin',
And on my way out,
He may here me shout,
"It's your face I'd sure like to fart in."
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1
There was a young lass from Ignatius
Who lived in a garret quite spacious.
When she went to here auntie's
She always wore panties,
But alone in her garret,---good gracious.
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2
A fellow who slept with a whore,
Used a safe, but his pecker got sore.
Said he with chagrin,
"Selling these is a sin,"
Said the druggist, "Caveat emptor".
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3
There was a young man of Bombay,
Who fashioned a c--t out of clay.
But the heat of his prick,
Turned it into a brick,
And chafed all his foreskin away.
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4
There was a young lady of Michigan,
Who said, "Damn it! I've got the itch again."
Said her mother, "That's strange,
I'm surprised it ain't mange,
If you've slept with that son-of-a-bitch again."
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5
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