Assuaged our native rancour 
And broad our mouths with smiles : 
If you were thrall to chancre 
And I were page to piles ! 
 
If you were fucking’s lady 
And I were lord of buggery, 
We’d work electric handles 
To dildos, sticks, and candles. 
Till testicles kept hey-day 
In vulva’s greasy snuggery : 
If you were fucking’s lady 
And I were lord of buggery. 
 
If you were queen of spending 
And I were lord of spunk, 
We’d fuck for days together 
And oil your chamois-leather, 
And teach my tool a bending. 
Arid prove your twat a skunk, 
If you were the queen of spending 
And I were lord of spunk. 
 
 
EPILOGUE 
 
If I were bubo’s victim 
And you orchitis’ prey 
We find what strange delight is 
In epididymitis. 
Your cock — the tongues that licked him 
Would have the deuce to pay 
If I were bubo’s victim 
And you orchitis’ prey. 
 
 
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