There once was an apple-cheeked runt 
            Who was welcomed with joy at the Front. 
                This God's gift to he-men 
                Prevented spilled semen, 
            For his ass was tattooed like a cunt. 

Why, oh why, does this happen to me?
How did I end up stuck in this tree?
The ground down below looks so far away,
That if I would fall it would take me all day
To hit the ground, with a thud and a thunk.
And knowing my luck I'd land on a skunk.
So here I will sit 'til my dying day.
Or maybe, at least, 'til that bear goes away. 

               There was a young laundress of Lamas 
               Who invented high amorous dramas 
                    For the spots she espied 
                    Dried and hardened inside 
               The pants of the parson's pajamas. 

A pretty young maid from Australia 
            Painted her ass like a dahlia. 
                The colour was fine, 
                And so the design, 
            But the smell was still naturalia! 

There was a young man who preferred 
               Having sex with some kind of a bird. 
                    The rarer the species, 
                    And the fuller of feces, 
               The better---that guy really loved turd.