The Ballad of Mary Morebroom

He was wanted in the Board Room

And that was all he knew

And so he arrived most promptly

At twenty-four minutes to two.

 

He strode up to the receptionist

(A woman with slight breasts)

Who shook her earringed head and said

"I'm sorry - first there's tests."

 

She grabbed the small man by the throat

And squeezed till he turned blue

And then she grabbed him by the scrote

And checked for one and two.

 

Sure enough he was replete

With testes by the score

For then she counted three, then six

And more and more and more

 

"Thirty-seven balls in all!"

The beaming man did holler

And kissed the woman on the lips

Which made her full of choler

 

For those lips were not upon her face

They were between her legs

Her thrush-battered vag is what he tastes

Plus the residue in her kegs.

 

Alas, the small man never found

His way into the Board Room

Instead the meeting was foregone

For the moists of Mary Morebroom

 

But Mary Morebroom was enraged

She tried to punish what he did

But failed to grab his arm, you see,

For the small man was a flid.