THE ARCHBISHOPS’S SONG 
 
I nicked her suck-and-swallow, 
Her intercrural trench, 
Her home-sweet-home, her hollow, 
Her little shop of stench. 
 
I knocked her up the mustard-pot ; 
I swivelled her in the socket ; 
I stirred her creamy custard-pot 
With my rampageous rocket. 
 
I jumbled up her harbour ; 
I climbed her Jacob’s ladder : 
I slept inside her arbour ; 
I stung her with my adder. 
 
I larded her factotum : 
I fucked her breadwinner ; 
My thrysus and its scrotum 
Gave her starch pie for dinner. 
 
Her Mary-Jane I mashed, 
Her little sister jiggled ; 
Her sack of corn I thrashed ; 
Her horse-collar I niggled. 
 
I stormed her Jack Straw’s Castle ; 
I jammed her tufted treasure ; 
I packed her paper parcel ; 
I dug her mine of pleasure. 
 
Her omnibus I boarded ; 
I shagged her lover’s locker ; 
Her Customs I defrauded : 
By Langolee !  I block her. 
 
I cleaned her saucy salmon ; 
I piddled in her gutter ; 
[57]