Each passion that touches the soul;
My second's as far as you can throw;
And my whole — you may suck my whole.
My first tells every passion of man's,
Each feeling that moves his soul;
My second supports the pots and pans;
And my whole — you may suck my whole.
O — range.
NURSERY RHYMES.
There was a young man of Calcutta
Who thought he would do a smart trick;
So anointed his arsehole with butter,
And in it inserted his prick.
It was not for greed after gold;
It was not for thirst after pelf;
'Twas simply because he'd been told,
To bloody well bugger himself.
There was a young lass of Dalkeith,
Who frigged a young man with her teeth;
She complained that he stunk;
Not so much from the spunk;
But his arsehole was just underneath.
There was a young Jew of Torbay,
Who buggered his father one day;
Said he, "I'd much rather,
Thus bugger my father,
Because there is nothing to pay."
There was a gay parson of Norton,
Whose prick, although thick, was a short 'un;
To make up for this loss,
He had balls like a horse,
And never spent less than a quartern.
There was a young man of the Tweed,
Who sucked his wife's arse thro' a reed;
When she had diarrhoea,
He'd let none come near,
For fear they should poach on his feed.
There was an old man of Balbriggan,
Who cunt juice was frequently swigging;
But even to this,
He preferred tom-cat's piss,
Which he kept a pox'd nigger to frig in.
A cabman who drove in Biarritz,
Once frightened a fare into fits;
When reprov'd for a fart,
He said, "God bless my heart,
When I break wind I usually shits."
A young woman got married at Chester,
Her mother she kissed and she blessed her.
Says she, "You're in luck,