There once was a man from St. Pauls
Who used to perform in the halls.
His favorite trick
Was to stand on his prick
And roll off the stage on his balls. 

There was once a mechanic named Bench 
               Whose best tool was a sturdy gut-wrench. 
                    With this vibrant device 
                    He could reach, in a trice, 
               The innermost parts of a wench. 

There was an old man of Kentucky, 
               Said to his old woman,"Oi'll fuck ye." 
                    She replied, "Now you wunt 
                    Come anigh my old cunt, 
               For your prick is all stinking and mucky," 

There was a young man from Rangoon
Whose farts could be heard to the moon.
When you'd least expect 'em,
They'd burst from his rectum
With the force of a raging typhoon.

There was an old gent from Kentuck 
            Who boasted a filigreed schmuck, 
                But he put it away 
                For fear that one day 
            He might put it in and get stuck.