There once was a young man named Rig
his rectum two sizes too big
whenever he farted
his two cheeks they parted
expelling a fireworks fizgig
The fizgig it fizzled and hissed
as it came through out of the mist
we spluttered and we gagged
as on the fizgig dragged
and now we were thoroughly pissed
Rig laughed and muttered, “I’m sorry.
Passed as I stepped from the lorry.
The step was too high,”
he said with a sigh,
“of getting back in, I’m charry!”
F-lighty flibbertigibbet she
I-gnores social graces,
Z-ipping around in
G-iddy delight, she is an
I-llusion our
G-aga girl.
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