There was once a sad Maitre d'hotel 
            Who said, "They can all go to hell! 
                What they do to my wife--- 
                Why it ruins my life; 
            And the worst is, they all do it well." 

There was an old man of Stamboul
With a varicose vein in his tool.
In attempting to come
Up a little boy's bum
It burst, and he did look a fool.

Mary had a little lamb,
It's fleece was scarlet red.
The reason for this colour scheme
was the pick-axe in it's head.

There was a young fellow named Veach
Who fell fast asleep on the beach.
    His dreams of nude women
    Had his proud organ brimming
And squirting on all within reach.

There was a young fellow from Florida
Who liked a friend's wife, so he borrowed her.
When they got into bed,
He cried, "God strike me dead,
This ain't a cunt, it's a corridor!"