There’re new points of view—can you dig ‘em?—
That’ll billow your sails (if you rig ‘em)
And bring you, in time,
To that outcome sublime:
A shift of your whole paradigm.
...
The outfit that she wore wasn't much before
And a little less than half of that behind,
For a twisty bit of rag and a matching sequined bag
Were all the summer beachwear she could find.
...
Mary was a virgin mother,
So girls must be one, or the other,
But no one who's a true believer
Gets the choice of being neither.
Wanting to get in her pants,
He took her to Taos for romance,
For the je ne sais quoi,
The I-don’t-know-wha-
t—I guess you would say ambiance.
If your buns on a bike you would rest,
A silicone gel seat is best.
Then when you're riding,
You feel like you're gliding
While squatting on Demi Moore's chest.
There once was a girl from Kentucky,
Small-breasted, pretty, and plucky,
But she got no rest
From fears that her chest
Never would let her get lucky.