The Mayor of Bayswater's Daughter

Tune: The Ash Grove


The pattern of this song is two verses and one chorus.

The Mayor of Bayswater,
He had a pretty daughter.
And the hairs of her dinky-di-doo,
Hang down to her knees.

I've smelt it, I've felt it,
It's just like a piece of velvet.
And the hairs of her dinky-di-doo,
Hang down to her knees.

Chorus:

The hairs of her dinky-di-doo,
The hairs of her dinky-di-doo,
The hairs of her dinky-di-doo,
Hang down to her knees.
There's a black one and a white one,*
And one with a little shite on,*
And one with a little light on*
To show you the way.

She lived on a mountain,
And pissed like a bloody fountain.
And ... etc.

She's not a great looker,
But everyone took 'er.

She slept with a demon,
Who washed her with semen.

If she were my daughter,
I'd have them cut shorter.

She fished at the bass hole,
While I poled her asshole.

She came from Glamorgan,
With a cunt like a barrel organ.

She lived in a lighthouse,
Which stank like a bloody shitehouse.

I've seen it, I've seen it,
I've lain right in between it.

You need a coal miner,
To find her vagina.

I've stroked them, I've poked them,
I've even rolled them up and smoked them.

She married a preacher,
To find out what he could teach her.

She says she's not a whore,
But she bangs like a shit-house door.

She stayed on a cattle ranch,
And came like a bloody avalanche.

She lived on a malted milkshake,
And rooted like a bloody rattlesnake.

She married an Italian,
With balls like a fucking stallion.

She divorced the Italian,
And married a stallion.

It was always hit-or-miss,
Whether I could find her clitoris.

Her cat's name was Boris,
And it played with her clitoris.

She went to Arabia,
And got camel drool on her labia.

She stayed in Seattle,
And went down on cattle.

She married a Spaniard,
With a prick like a bloody lanyard.

She sits on the waterfront,
With the waves lapping up and down her cunt.

I've licked it, I've kissed it,
It tastes like a chocolate biscuit.

You can drive a mini minor,
Right up her vagina.

Her vagina was squishy,
And smelled a bit fishy.

The aroma it lingers,
It smells like fish fingers.

She hooked up with some old Farmer John
With a cock like a Percheron.

You could lose a gang of Welsh miners
Inside her vagina.


* Suggested variations for the chorus lines

And one forty pound strength one,
And one I caught a trout on...
And one I found on a bar of soap on
And one that blocked the storm drain...
And one she used as dental floss...
And one she uses for macrame...
And one dripping in olive oil...
And one that smelt of clitty litter...
And one to start the lawn mower with...
And one covered in algae...
And one I found in my mug of beer...
And one the crabs are stuck on...


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Last Updated 19-Aug-2016   Sitemap

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