speaking of arses
There’s a world that’s like no other
Up my arse.
There’s a big black hairy mother
Up my arse.
There’s a privet and a thicket,
There’s a dozen games of cricket,
There’s a sofa, there’s a dwarf,
There’s a river, there’s a wharf,
There’s a bucket full of pike,
There’s a vicar on a bike.
I think that you would like
It up my arse.
There’s a badly wounded pigeon
Up my arse.
There’s an oven and a fridge on
Up my arse.
There’s a robust village squire
And a roaring fake log fire
And a pair of turtle doves,
Oh, I know that you would love
It up my arse.
There’s a tiny Burmese pony
Up my arse.
There’s a granny who’s quite bony
Up my arse.
There’s a haddock with a hat on,
A soldier with a baton,
A fish that’s lost its key,
You really should come see
What’s up my arse.
There’s a roundabout with horses
Up my arse
There’s a wealth of different sauces
Up my arse.
There’s a ferret in a pickle,
Mr. Small and Mr.Tickle,
A rabbit and a gnome,
Oh, it really feels at home
Here up my arse
:weee:
