Mary had a little skirt With slits right up the sides And everytime she crossed her legs The boys could see her thighs Mary had another skirt With a slit right up the front She never wore that one... Send this poem to a friend 1 Roses are red Violets are blue Some poems rhyme But this one doesn't Send this poem to a friend 2 George Michael re-releases Careless Wrister And I'm never going to wank again, Guilty nobs have have got no rythm Though its easy to pretend I'm standing on a stool. Should have known better than to wank in bogs, Stood in shit and covered in jism, So I'm never gonna wank again, The way I wanked with you oo ooh. Bog Tropicana Let me take you to a place, Where gays will come upon your face, If you want them to, And if you stand upon a bag, They'll do things that will make you gag, As you sit upon the loo, Bog Tropicana sex is free, Bums and gism, there's enough for everyone, And if you like cock just like me, You can meet them, they all want you! nice.... Young Bums (Go for it!) Hey Sucker! (Who the hell's been up your flue?) Hey Fucker! (Where's the nearest public loo?) Well I hadn't seen your arse around town, a while So I greeted you, with a knowing smile When I saw that chap upon your lap I knew he'd taken your length, bent over the taps I said: "Big boy, what's with the frown!" I said: "Big boy, you better take my cum down." And in return, I gladly heard you say, "Fuck me George, I wanna play." Young Bums Having some fun, Crazy Bikers take 'em on the run Wise Bi's realize, when they see my jiz dripping down your thighs Whip me, sting me like a bee No tears, just cheers, and beastiality One Two, on your cock I wanna chew, Death by masturbation! Hey Sucker! .....and so on, and so on.... Send this poem to a friend 3 NIGHT OF DARKNESS AS I LOOKED OUT THE WINDOW OF THE NIGHT AND STARE INTO THE DARKNESS. A WAKING NIGHTMARE OF DELIGHT ETERNAL BLACKNESS UNTIL SUNRISE. THE SPIRIT OF DARKNESS FLOWING THROUGH YOU BLOOD FOREVER LASTING HAPPINESS. A SINGLE DEATH ONCE A NIGHT TO QUENCH THE THIRST OF THE ILVING DEAD. NOT EVEN A CORPSE LEFT TO ROT THEY VANISH FROM THE DARK PARKING LOT. Sent by PHILIP Send this poem to a friend 4 There was a young man from Liberia Who was groping a wench from Nigeria. He said, "Yes, my pet, Your panties are wet." "Sorry, sir, that's my interior." Send this poem to a friend 5