One night for a jar, I went to the bar
And I drunk the barrel dry.
And the thoughts in my head were very far from bad
Till this harlot catch me eye.
She was withered and small, like a pickled wall
That her bones had rubbed her sore,
With her teeth in a box, she had got the pox
And her age was fifty-four.
cho: I've made very bold with young and old
And I've f***ed 'em thick and thin;
But I never, never straddled a whore so raddled
As Vanessa Picklegin.
Well, no man knows who soberly goes,
To what that man can sink;
How his brain gets spoiled and he sees the world
Through the rose-colored speck(specs?) of drink
So I gazed in her eye' till beneath my fly
My Y-fronts shockedly rose;
And the stand in hand grew so bloody grand
That it nearly blocked me nose.
So up comes she and she says to me,
Do you fancy a whore to screw?
I can take without fuss any double-decker bus
So I'll readily deal with you!
For the average fool with the average tool
I charge an inordinate fee;
But since you've got a hard, which is more than a yard
To you the admission's free.
So it's back to her flat, and we slung out the cat
And to bed widiout a word,
For she looked, and she felt, and she bloody nearly smelt
Like a week-old, white-washed turd.
But I maintained that horn from night 'till morn
And we f***ed the dark hours through
Till the bones went 'crack' in the middle of her back
And Vanessa fell in two.
Now all you lads that drink ale, be cautioned by my tale
For as I scrambled free,
I loudly wailed, for my prick was left impaled
On Vanessa's vertibree.
So, when you're in the pub, the harlots snub
Or you shall surely find,
Though you may get away and not be asked to pay
You'll leave a lot behind!