The Assumption Song

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.