There was a young fellow named Bream 
               Who never had dreamt a wet dream, 
                    For when lacking a whore 
                    He'd just bore out the core 
               Of an apple an fuck it through cream. 

To Italy went Sinclair Lewis 
               Documenting the life led by loose 
                    American drunks, 
                    But he unpacked his trunks 
               'Cause Florence slipped him a goose. 

There was a young lady from Kent,
When her husband's pecker it bent,
She said with a sigh,
"Oh, why must it die?
Let's fill it with Portland Cement." 

               There was a young monk from Dundee 
               Who hung a nun's cunt on a tree. 
                    He grabbed her fair ass 
                    And performed a high mass 
               That even the Pope came to see.

A newlywed couple from Goshen 
               Spent their honeymoon sailing the ocean. 
                    In twenty-eight days 
                    They got laid eighty ways--- 
               Imagine such fucking devotion.