Bill was going to the Young Farmers dance,
He'd never been there before,
He'd hoped to go to it last year,
But fell asleep on the sheep shed floor.
He lived way out on a hill farm,
But didn't want to be left on the shelf,
When young he had no one to play with,
So he had to play with himself.
About sheep he knew all there was to know,
About girls he knew not a lot,
He had, a much older sister,
But considered that she was a swot.
He got himself all nice and ready,
And studied himself, What a toff,
His aftershave smelt of the silage,
But no way did that put him off.
He walked up to the bar and ordered a pint,
Then drank it down very quick,
He knew he couldn't drink very much,
Or he'd just end up being sick.
He saw a young girl in the corner,
He liked the dress she had on,
He had some sweets in his pocket,
And wanted to give her a one.
He wasn't much good at the chat up,
But he'd been watching the tups way outbye,
He thought if it worked OK for them,
He may as well give it a try.
He went across to her sniffing,
Then he tried walking around,
He curled his top lip over his teeth,
Then started pawing the ground.
By now the girl was very intrigued,
As the sniffing was going on still,
Bill sensed the job was a good one,
So decided to move in for the kill. |
He moved in a good deal closer,
He felt it was worth a try,
But as he leant forward to kiss her,
He put his nose straight in her eye.
She stepped back all of a sudden,
But Bill had got into gear,
He'd heard lugs were very erotic,
So stuck his tongue right in her ear.
She slapped him then slipped overbackwards,
And ended up flat on the floor,
A prudent man would have left right now,
And headed straight for the door.
But Bill didn't know what prudence meant,
In fact he'd never met her.
He thought he'd have to take his chance,
'Cos he might not get a better.
He went and helped her up off the floor,
And with a small and hesitant glance,
He gave her his most alluring smile,
And asked if she wanted to dance.
The smile must have worked cos she said she would,
But his dancing was not Fred Astair,
It was more like an old Indian war dance,
Like he was going out scalping for hair.
With his arms in the air and his headswinging round.
Doing the head bangers dip.
No one knew if it was the latest dance
Or he'd caught himself in his zip.
So Bill went home feeling happy,
He'd had a kiss and a slow dance as well,
How much further their romance progresses,
No one at present can tell.
So a word to young girls who are listening,
Beware of the sniffing and beer,
Because you can bet shortly after,
You'll end up with a tongue in your ear! |
