He could vary, with proper persuasion,
His fart to suit any occasion.
He could fart like a flute
Like a lark, like a lute,
This highly fartistic Caucasian. 

He'd fart a gavotte for a starter,
And fizzle a fine serenata.
He could play on his anus
The Coriolanus:
Oof, boom, er-tum, tootle, hum tah-dah!

There was a young man named Ringer,
Who was seducing a beautiful singer.
He said with a grin,
"I've now rammed it in!"
She said, "You mean that isn't your finger?" 

There is a young lass of Valencia
For whom sex is a form of dementia.
For the first hour she's quiet
Then she builds to a riot
With a noise that grows quickly intensia. 

He was great in the Christmas Cantata,
He could double-stop fart The Toccata,
He'd boom from his ass
Bach's B-Minor Mass,
And in counterpoint, La Traviata.