Don Johnson Poet Ballad

Bee Prongs Horn

Bee Pronghorn
Ole Herb wasn't feeling nifty,
his pronger wasnt lifting,
50 years it worked, but now was nothing left,
into overalls he climbed,
protected every part  in mind,
cep his donger, which hung sadly unimpressed,

the beehive was a buzzing,
with every bee and its cousin,
getting flopped and stirred to frightful excess,
they homed upon his donger,
with the blood flow getting stronger,
as agony gave him such a sweet caress,

so he sprung up off the ground,
stirred like an eager hound,
and charged into the bedroom, saying yes,
but the lady there no longer,
had no use for his donger?
So bloody oath he had to take a Bex.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wI-RsXblNFM

Don Johnson

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