Oh the Ball, the Ball of Ballyknure
Where your wife, and my wife, were doin’ it on the floor!
Four and twenty virgins went down to Inverness.
And when the Ball was over, there were four and twenty less!
Singin’ balls to your partner
Arse against the wall!
If you never get laid on Saturday night
You’ll never get laid at all!
Oh, the village postman he was there, but he had the Pox
He couldna’ do the ladies so he did the letter-box!
The Queen of England she was there, backed against the
wall “Put yer money on the table, boys, I’m going ta do you all!”
The Count and Countess, they were there, a-doin’ on the stair
The bannister broke, and down they fell, they finished in mid-air!
There was music in the garden, there was music in the sticks
You couldna’ hear the music for the swishin’ o’ the pricks!
They were doin’ it on the landing, they were doin’ it on the stairs
You couldna’ see the carpet for the wealth of pubic hairs!
Mr. Jameison he was there, the one that fought the Boers
He jumped up on the table and he shouted for the hoors!
The Board of Directors they were there, and they were shocked to see
Four-and-twenty maidenheads a-hangin’ from a tree!
The village Constable he was there, now whattya think o’that?
Amusin’ himself by abusin’ himself, and catchin’ it in his hat . . .
It started out so simple-like: each lad and lassie mated
But pretty soon the doin’s got so bloody complicated!
The village pervert he was there, scratchin’ at his crotch
But no one minded him at all, he was only there to watch!
The village cripple he was there, but he didna shag too much
His old John Thomas had fallen off, so he did ’em with his crutch!
The old schoolteacher he was there, he diddled by rule-of-thumb
Workin’ logarithmicly the times that he would cum!
The village chimney-sweep was there, a really filthy brute
For every time he farted, he covered ’em all with soot!
The village carpenter he was there, with his prick of wood
He made it when he lost his own, and it worked just as good!
The old fishmonger he was there, a dirty stinkin sod
He never got a rise that night, so he diddled ’em with a cod!
The Kingdom Laurels they were there, and quite a sight to see
A-doin’ everyone they could, and most artisticly!
There was doin’s on the porches, and doin’s on the stones
You couldna’ hear the music for the loud and joyful moans!
(insert name) she was there, covered all in sweat,
Takin’ on all comers, and she hasn’t finished yet!
The village druggist he was there, grinnin’ like a fox
He’d sold out of condoms, so he sold ’em dirty socks!
The undertaker he was there, in a long black shroud
Swinging from the chandelier, and pissing on the crowd!
(insert name) was there, as well, she kept us all in fits
Jumping off the mantlepiece, and bouncing on her tits!
he village idiot he was there, up to his favorite trick:
Bouncin’ on his testicles and whistlin’ thru his prick!
The village fireman was there, quenchin’ lassie’s fires
He diddled ’em in the firetruck, right beside the tires!
(insert name) was also there, standing back-to-front,
With thirteen inches of candlestick inserted in her cunt!
There was doin’s in the bedrooms, there was doin’s in the
tub ‘Till every single pecker there was worn down to a nub!
The bride was in the bedroom, explainin’ to the groom:
The vagina, not the rectum, is the entrance to the womb!
The King was in the counting house, counting out his wealth;
The Queen was in the parlor, playin’ with herself!
(insert name) he was there, his balls was made of brass
And when he blew a fart, m’lads, sparks flew out his ass!
The tailor was a busy man; his work went to his head
Sewing up the stretched-out cunts with miles and miles of thread!
The Elder Statesmen all were there; they were too old to firk,
So they sat around the table and they had a circle-jerk!
(insert name) was excited and racin’ round the hall
A-pullin’ on his pecker and showin’ off his balls!
The Parson’s wife, she was there; she was the worst of all:
She pulled her skirts above her head and shouted: “Fuck it all!”