My poor neighbor. He was smart,
But never was a man of wealth.
One day he longed to buy a tart.
The bank said no. He shot himself.
I contemplated days and nights
How I could save the men I knew.
When suddenly I realized
How crucial it is to screw.
I’ve thought of poor poor lawyers
Worn out with helping us divorce.
It would be fair if their employers
Could pay them all with intercourse.
I’ve thought of poor poor lawyers
Worn out with helping us divorce.
It would be fair if their employers
Could pay them all with intercourse.
I’ve thought of second-hand car sellers.
If one could give them sex indeed,
Then they’ll discount their bestsellers
And no doubt never cheat.
I’ve thought of hapless politicians
So anxious rescuing mankind.
Let’s speed them up in their mission
With fast approaching from behind.
I’ve thought of Russian football players.
Instead of sharply pointing blame
We need to hear their prayers
And rodger them before the game.
No use in standing here and preaching.
It’s time to get into my stride.
I’ll start with my male English teachers.
So few of them. Fifteen per night.
I must address myself to ladies.
Let’s save the men like I propose.
Our encouragement is steady.
It’s time for slappers, slags and hoes!
We’ll register a brand new party,
Receive support from every class.
Our appeal, sincere and hearty,
Will promise lots of greener grass.
We’ll serve policemen, teachers, doctors,
All sales assistants in the store,
All office workers, all blue collars,
The young, the old, the rich, the poor…
We’ll visit guys who are bed-ridden.
There’ll be a lot of tears we drop.
We know coitus is forbidden.
We’ll give a jolly good blow job.
We’ll be enduring, brave and speedy.
We’ll go throughout the Commonwealth.
We’ll give sex to all men who need it
So that they never shoot themselves.