Jeff's Jolly Jobby
Squeeze, grip, hold on for dear life,
It's not going to come, just like my wife.
You can force and curse all you want,
But it won't make you plop or act like a ponce.
Finally it drops,
And your thoughts,
Are ones of happiness,
Because you're empty now,
Though you have a sweaty brow,
As well as a big red raw bum.
Jeff's all clear,
And needs a beer,
And also looks quite queer,
Like a dear
Old Woman
With big brown stains
Round her spread-eagled legs,
Yes,
Jeff the Jew and his Jolly Green Jobby.
- Juan Fish Kennedy