The Assumption Song
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There was an old farmer who lived on a rock.
He sat in the medow just shacking his fist,
at some boys who were down by the creek,
their feet in the water
their hands on their marbles
and playthings, and at half past four,
there came a young lady, she looked like a
pretty young creature.
She sat on the grass
she pulled up her dress and she showed them her
ruffles and laces and white fluffy duck.
She said she was learning a new way to
bring up her children so they would not spit
while the boys in the barnyard were shovelling
refuse and litter from yesterday's hunt
while the girl in the medow was rubbing her
eyes, and the fellow, down by the dock,
he looked like a man with a sizeable home
in the country with a big fence out front
if he asked her politely she'd show him her
little pet dog, who was subject to fits
and maybe she'd let him grab hold of her
small tender hands, with a movement so quick
and then she'd bend over and suck on his
candy, so tasty
made of butter scotch
and then he'd spray whip cream all over her
cookies that she had left out on her shelf.
If you think this is dirty,
you can go f**k yourself.