There was a young fellow from Staines,
Who had a perversion for drains,
When he saw one he'd shout,
And then leap about,
Then tie them together with canes.
He had a young sister called Jean,
Who was frigid and frightfully mean,
And her smile it was twisted,
When her men, they resisted,
But she said that it kept them quite keen.
Her client was called Demi John,
A fat and effeminate don,
But she tanned his big arse,
With strokes lean and sparse,
And he left saying, what am I on?
So it's bye to the people of Staines,
Who shelter in drains when it rains,
And where regular moles,
Live in redundant holes,
And the pixies all drive in the lanes.
Copyright © Max Scratchmann. All Rights Reserved