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 everything
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
faced 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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