Singin’ balls to your partner,
Ass against the wall.
If you can’t get laid on Saturday night,
You’ll never get laid at all

The bride was in the bedroom,
Explaining to the groom.
The vagina not the rectum
Is the entrance to the womb

*Repeat Chorus*

*More Verses*
The village magician he was there,
Doing his favorite trick.
Pulling his foreskin over his head
And vanishing up his prick.

There was fucking on the carpet,
There was fucking on the stairs.
You couldn’t see the carpet
For the layer of pubic hairs.

The village cripple he was there,
He wasn’t good for much.
He lined up all the ladies
And fucked them with his crutch.

The local herder he was there,
And he began to weep.
All these willing ladies
And not a single sheep.