In Cumalot, Big King Dick
Really lived up to his name
In his kingdom he’d shagged
Every damsel and dame
Then one summer morning
With not a cloud in the skies
A terrible thing happened
King Dick failed to rise
His Royal Prince was limp
Rung out and pathetically flaccid
His mojo had deserted him
King Dicks libido was dead
He called the court physician
Who prepared him an elixir
He called the court sorcerer
Who prepared him a philtre
But when cure-all and love potion
Failed to raise the dead
They tried erotic love balms
And sexual salves instead
But when these proved nostrum
Failing to raise the dead
The King lost his temper
Ordering the removal of their heads
He sent for the Royal love-smiths
The most alluring in the land
The dangerously seductive,
Sultry temptresses took him in hand
When the Royal Dick was still limp
They tried something else
Kissing every erogenous point
But this failed to quicken his pulse
So after he’d exhausted his supply
Of all his tarts and bints
He called for the Royal carpenter
To fashion him a splint
But this was no real solution
And it merely made him wince
Especially when he got a splinter
In his flaccid little Prince
He looked at dirty pictures
And he read erotic literature
He watched his soldiers shagging
He was so desperate for a cure
So when every thing had failed him
He took to his bed in disgust
Wouldn’t speak to his courtiers
He just reminisced of his lust
Then one day sickness was abroad
And he waited for breakfast in bed
Instead of his hot little maid
A mangy old crone came instead
He looked at the warty face crone
Moving about to and fro
And King Dick felt the stirrings
Of the Royal Prince down below
He leapt out of bed and grabbed her
And quickly removed his nightgown
Then he bent the crone over a chair
And the little Prince was crowned
From that day on in the kingdom
No crone was safe from his lust
Dirty ugly and warty faced
The Kings little Prince wasn’t fussed
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