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. 

There was an old maid from Bruton 
               Who had the bad habit of pootin'. 
                    Her sphincter was weak, 
                    Her wind she couldn't keep--- 
               This tootin' old spinster from Bruton. 

There was an old man of Tantivy 
               Who followed his son to the privy. 
                    He lifted the lid 
                    To see what he did, 
               And found that it smelt of Capivi. 

                    A certain young man of St. Paul
                            
                    Consistently practiced withdrawal.
                            This quaint predilection
                            Created such friction,
                            
                    He soon had no foreskin at all.
                            

There was a young lady named Clair
Who possessed a magnificent pair.
Or at least so I thought,
Till I saw one get caught
On a thorn, and began losing air.