The Lady Of The Manor

The lady of the manor came riding to the hall, to the hall, to the hall,

When she saw the village vicar pissing up against the wall, ‘gainst the

wall, ‘gainst the wall.

With his great big kidney wiper, and his balls the size of three

And a yard and a half of foreskin, fiveskin, sixskin

Hanging down below his knee, below his knee, below his knee.

She wrote to him a letter, and in it she did say

“I’d rather be fucked by you, sir, than my husband any day”

When he received the letter he was sitting at his tea,

And he lifted up the table with a rise of six foot three.

He mounted on his charger, the finest in the land,

With his balls astride the saddle and his penis in his hand.

He rode up to the manor, he rode up to the hall,

“My God,” the buttler cried, “he has come to fuck us all.”

He fucked them on the stairway, he fucked them in the hall,

He even fucked the pictures hanging on the fucking wall.

Some say he went to heaven, some say he went to hell.

Some say he fucked the devil, and I’ll bet he fucked him well.