There was a young lady of fashion 
            Who had oodles and oodles of passion. 
                To her lover she said, 
                As they climbed into bed, 
            "Here's one thing the bastards can't ration!"

               A young man from the banks of the Po 
               Found his cock had elongated so, 
                    That when he'd pee 
                    It was not he 
               But even his neighbors who'd know. 

               There once was a man named Mort 
               Whose dick was incredibly short 
                    He climbed into bed 
                    And his lady friend said, 
               "That's not a dick, it's a wart. 

Part 12 of 12
   
                    His bunghole was blown back to Sparta,
                            
                    Where they buried the rest of our farter,
                            With a gravestone of turds
                            Inscribed with the words:
                            
                    "To the Fine Art of Farting, A Martyr."
                            

There once was a guy named Dave,
Who dug up a whore from a grave.
She was moldy and shitty,
And only had one titty
But look at the money he saved!