There was a young man from Vancouver 
            Whose existence had lost its prime mover. 
                But its loss he supplied 
                With a piece of bull's hide, 
            Two pairs, and the bag from the Hoover. 

                    A lonely young lad of Eton
                            
                    Used always to sleep with the heat on,
                            Till he ran into a lass
                            Who showed him her ass---
                            
                    Now they sleep with only a sheet on.
                            

On a bridge overlooking a ravine
Archibald was screwing Kathleen.
The force of his lunge
Caused the whole bridge to plunge.
The worst fucking disaster yet seen. 

                    On the breasts of a barmaid named Gail
                            
                    Was tattoo'd the price of her ale.
                            And for the sake of the blind
                            Upon her behind
                            
                    Was the same information in Braille.
                            

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.