The curvaceous shape,
What I delight
To the letches eye
Falling beneath the
leer
Of sexual appraisal
Would you dress?
To be so pleasing
To the onlookers
When amidst those
Onlooker’s gazes
Spied the pervert’s
eye
And you knew
The letches feasted
On the sexual sight
In their perping rite
Before the moment passes
I would just like to
say
Don’t you ever forget
Not even for a day
How very special you
are
In each and everyway
When you hear
The chorus, from where
The alley cat’s tarry
Just remember
That every tom
Has a dick, Harry
Rub-a-dub-dub,
Thanks for the grub,
Without the Lord no
one would care
The father the son
And the spiritual one
The guardian angels of
heavens host
They all make sure the
tables not bare
Are you wearing a feather boa?
It makes you look like
a goer
And I think that is a
no noa
You don’t need any
help so soa
You can lose the
feather boa
She Wears Red Feathers
And a Huly-Huly Skirt
Or so the old song
goes
To me she sounds like
a flirt
Let’s see how alluring
she is
In Primark joggers and
T-shirt
I bought myself a Satnav
I got in the car,
turned it on
And I put it on my
dash
And it told me where I
was
Like I didn’t know already
What a waste of bloody
cash
