Shagged in the back of a shotgun shack
at night by moonlight
peeping past curtains of burlap sack
such a sore sight
surrounded by fields of green
willing as she'd been
tho' torn
she surely wasn't about to be seen
with a child out of wedlock born
so with a bun in the oven
she had her Dad invite he
who did the dirty deed
and plant the seed
the Father-to-be
down south way out on the steading
to shape up show up and in the end
attend a shotgun wedding
The name of Fred's girlfriend was Mable
Who was ready willing and able
Had a lot of her plate
She would spoon on a date
But liked to do it on the table
Until she met a fella named Jake
Who just liked women that loved to bake
So with pure sex appeal
Wouldn't ask for a meal
But would do it for gratitude's sake
Each night they were pushin' and shovin'
But then Jake grew tired of her lovin'
And with tears in her eyes
He left a big surprise
Now she's got a bun in the oven
I'm on fire busting out from the flames used to be a city kid in the hood
pulling my own like a dog without its bone you got me thinking alone
vibrations to the temptations through the doorways in my mind
the streets are uneasy the wine is just fine getting me from behind
got me in the zone while I'm watching the classic epic, "Home Alone".
Beggars can't be choosers rap isn't for loosers keep ya head up G
they got their guns trying to have a bit of fun you know what I'm saying sun
many years ago let the truth be told there was a different episode to unfold
both Army & Navy take home the gravey but friends like to change the story
so why should we worry in a world in such a hurry bury me beneath the breeze
got hustlers pimping their ride young G in the hood up to no good
hearing the rap songs being played getting groovy in the shade
but this homeboy better act his age carry on in a rage
out in the street where peeps do meet having fun with their stereo lights
the are voices with choices like a bun in the oven sitting with my kissing cousins
they say it's crazy when I get a bit lazy and my nod is a bit hazy
falling apart at the seams eating delicious ice cream
But then, hi there,
How is the bun in the oven
Burning?
How are you baking it?
And what is James Blunt saying now?
Does he think I don’t know?
You are all that is on my mind,
Right now, I will not let anyone touch
Your place, and space again;
Such fresh breath,
A miracle must have happened last night,
I wonder what it is;
We gotta lift ourselves up from the patterns
Of pain we have designed.
I once dated a chef …
I was worried about getting a bun in the oven
But when I saw him mincing across the kitchen
I knew I wouldn’t be getting my fingers burned!
I once dated a fireman…
Oh he was HOT HOT HOT
But when he got out his tiny hose
It soon put out the flames of my desire
I once dated an electrician ..
Hoping that he would light up my life
But he was short tempered and would quickly blow a fuse
Sadly in the end there was no spark between us
I once dated a plumber…
I was flushed with pride when we were out together
Sadly he had problems with his waterworks
I ditched him… he was always taking a leak
I once dated a bricklayer
Couldn’t resist pointing out my faults
He wouldn’t listen, it was like talking to a brick wall
In the end he drove me up the wall and our relationship crumbled
15th April 2016
1, Battle of the Sexes : Fought over century's yet man's banner is wisest flown white.
2,Equal rights: Doors open wide and seats given up a man's place is behind or just stood up.
3,Marriage: All dressed in white and ready to wed the groom b.e.s.t turn up or it will be a funeral instead .
4,Birth: Bun in the oven, serving 9 months inside . please turn the heating on as its freezing outside.
5, Death: If the grim reaper knocks answer and smile if he then asks your name tell him a lie .
comp entry
Call It Anything But What It Is
By Elton Camp
In talking or writing, it’s become illicit
To use a plain term if it is too explicit
“Adult entertainment” is better than ****
A “bun in the oven” if baby’s to be born
Please use “ample proportions” not fat
Or “full bodied” is even better than that
“Powder your nose” if a lady must pee
“Remains” is just a dead body you see
“Surreptitious entry” if a thief breaks in
Use “imbibe” for drinking a lot of gin
“Revenue enhancement” is a tax that’s new
But “armed intervention” when war’s to do
“Comfort woman” slyly names a prostitute
“Batting for the other side” for a guy too cute
A “categorical inaccuracy” is nothing but a lie
And for a wrinkle, “character line” please try
It’s “collateral damage” when innocents die
“Disinformation” is another name for a lie
But using other words the facts to disguise
Can also be yet another way to tell cruel lies
I’s got six kids
Six mongrel dogs
Living in one bed broken down shack
From six whisky drinkin’ hogs
And a v8, v8 Cadillac parked out back
Yes I have six children
Nine months apart
Gots to buy six dozen nappies
From the second had counter at Wallmart
Once for experience
And I did it twice
Because it was nice
I saw my new woman
Walking down the road
She was walkin funny
The way she strolled
I thought it was through all my lovin’
But she had a bun in the oven
Once for experience
And I did it thrice
Because twice was nice
Now I have seven kids
Seven dog gone mongrels
Living in one bed broken down shack
From seven whisky drinkin’ hogs
And a v8, Cadillac with a box caravan parked out back
Food Fun.
The Cook she fancied Chef.
She truly loved his meatballs
and as for his spotted dick. Sublime.
Chef he fancied Cook.
He really loved her chicken breasts
and wished one day to cover them
in a thick cream sauce.
Cook loved his chocolate eclair
and loved the taste of the cream
in her mouth.
Chef loved her pastry to,
and when she slapped her
dough on the table.
Well, he knew she kneaded it.
It always took a good pounding.
Nothing like a bun in the oven.
The smell of the finnon haddock
gently poaching in its milk
was enough to make an old Tom
howl with delight.
At last the eggs were poached.
Chef waited till his sausage
was properly stewed before
removing it.
Finger licking good.
Those melons would be ripe soon
and the pudding had reached
boiling point and would be left to simmer.
It was nearing the end
of another busy day
in the mixing bowl of life
that was the kitchen.
Only one question remained.
Who would get custody of the custard?
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