|from the "Lock up your sons" collection
It must seem rude,
For me, a prude,
To be sitting on your face;
I must seem out of place.
I’m a stick-em-up kinda gal,
“Let’s skip the forey play.”
Without the shtick I want the stick
Without any delay.
I oft take on the rocking dong,
But your muffled voice now says,
“So well she flows! Her little rose
Is polishing my nose."
I don’t know what’s come over me
I’m not the squatting kind.
I shan’t complain, ‘cause when it rains,
The sun will rise and shine.
20 Mar 08
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This is a little sickening to me. Maybe I'm more a prude than I thought. Cheap, slick base humor, I guess, but a little too 'in your face' for me.
Isabelle, I completely agree. But your "in your face" comment sort of belies your sickening doesn't it? Anyway, funny choice of words. Cheap and base, and not even so slick I would call this little song. I wrote this about 15 years ago; recently found it and had to fly it here. Glutton for punishment.
Inspired by a true story. ha ha.