The Cure
The daftness of adventurous youth
I found a lass from Wybourn
now a more good hearted lass you
would not find.
The problem you see she expected
kindness in bed
She wanted me as her dream lover.
She got me in white smock and
plastic stethoscopes
That will cure the dam cold
As the medication took hold
With a mighty roar and moan
Screaming “Doctor, Doctor, I’m
cured”
The Viking
Now it goes against the grain as a
gentle soul I am
She was straight talking and as
rough as a fair ground boxer
As well as her dream doctor, she
also had a dream raider
She made me wear steel helmet and
cow horn
Together with leather and chain
mail, with blowing horn
First she made me burst in the
room blowing the mighty horn
Carrying her over my shoulder to
her centre of pleasure
While straining my back
No comments:
Post a Comment