When we turn up in our turn up s,
our hearts are heavy,
our heads are ready to levy.
For the yippee-less swing,
for the tot-less cot,
for the mock,
for the shock,
for the fun powder plot.
With courage and conviction,
in donkey-jaw diction,
we cry for the cause because the courts have left us lonely;
disowned us daddies like the poopers of the party.
Gently, gently take them from me
gently, gently take them from me
gently, gently take them from me,
and I ll be left dumfound as a donkey.
This is a booty call; my boot up your arse hole.
This is a Freudian slip; my slipper in your bits.