Forty Knickers Jane

I knew a gal when once a lad, she took me to her bedroom, glad, and when our love, its breathless sigh was spent, over to her draw she went, and in the beech wood, soft square cave, her dancing pants, the wood did pave, with pants a plenty, knickers too, I peered in to the undies stew; my ardor grew, it was my bane, to love my forty knickers Jane.