There once was a man named Sweenie,
 who spilled some gin on his weenie.
 So just to be couth,
 he spilled some vermouth.
 And then slipped his girl a Martini.

There once was a geologist named Wassal, 
            Who one day found a colossal fossil. 
                He could tell by the bend, 
                And the knob at the end, 
            That it was the peter of Paul, the apostile. 

There was a young lady named Rose 
                              Who'd occasionally straddle a hose, 
                                        And parade about squirting 
                                        And spouting and spurting, 
                              Pretending she pissed like her beaux 

                              She was seen by her cousin named Anne, 
                              Who improved the original plan. 
                                        She said, "My dear Rose, 
                                        In this lowly old hose 
                              Are all the best parts of a man." 

                              So, avoiding the crude and sadistic, 
                              She frigged in a manner artistic: 
                                        At the height of her pleasure 
                                        She turned up the pressure, 
                              And cried, "Ain't it grand and realistic!" 

                              They soon told the Duchess of Fyfe, 
                              And her crony, the alderman's wife; 
                                        And they found it so pleasing, 
                                        And tickling and teasing 
                              That they washed men right out of their life. 

                              It was tried by the great Mrs. Biddle, 
                              And she said to her husband, "Go fiddle! 
                                        Here's double the fun, 
                                        And you get three in one--- 
                              A ducking, a douche, and a diddle." 

                              It was tried by the dancer, Di Basle, 
                              Whose cunt was just made for a nozzle. 
                                        She said, "I admit 
                                        It's an elegant fit, 
                              But of course it won't do for the arse 'ole." 

                              It was tried by the Duchess of Porter, 
                              And passed on by her to her daughter, 
                                        Who said, "With a leman 
                                        You're fearful of semen, 
                              But a fuck's as effective with water." 

                              Thus writes Lady Vanderbilt-Horsett, 
                              Who invented the Lonely-Maid Corset: 
                                        "I thought all vicarious 
                                        Fucking precarious. 
                              I was wrong. It's a whiz. I endorse it. 

                              Soon in Paris, on the Boulevard Salique, 
                              You sould purchase (complet avec talic, 
                                        Pour soixante francs cinq) 
                                        A short hose and a tank, 
                              And they call it Le Fuckeur Hydraulique. 

There was an old maid in Peru
               Who'd a dog and a cat and a gnu. 
                    From a sairlor named Harrot 
                    She bought an old parrot, 
               And he threw in a young cockatoo. 

It was under the old apple tree 
               That she first showed it to me. 
                    It was ever so hot, 
                    It was shaped like a slot, 
               But it looked like a subway to me. 

               With a twinlke so full in her eye, 
               She craftily mangled my fly. 
                    Out popped a tool 
                    That was long as a rule 
               And she sank to her knees with a sigh. 

               She proceeded to lube up my tool 
               With lots of her natural drool. 
                    My knees gave a shake, 
                    My breath hard to make, 
               And my tool throbbed away like a fool. 

               With a magnificent shake of her head, 
               She threw me down onto the bed. 
                    The apples so round, 
                    The leaves on the ground 
               Made my tool like a sail on the Med. 

               The subway engulfed all my tool. 
               She rocked like she's riding a mule. 
                    My tool gave a jerk, 
                    Let out a hot squrt, 
               And flooded her subway with jooul. 

               As the sun sank slow in the west, 
               She rose up and off of my chest. 
                    The tool flopped out bent 
                    It was terribly spent-- 
               She absorbed all the best of the rest!