Alan’s had his thingies done. You know, down there.
Hurt like hell at first but now he’s fine.
He told us all about it in the bar.
The whole caboodle lasted half an hour.
Tied tightly with a sort of rubber twine
they drop off. Now Alan’s right as rain. You know, down there.
Eighteen months ago he had a scare.
Blood in the pan was the ominous sign.
He told us all about it in the bar.
Unlike women, men don’t really care
to talk about illness, it might undermine
the macho image. Especially when it’s, you know, down there.
Making jokes about the bottom line
he gets them in, four lagers, two bitters and a dry white wine.
Alan’s had this thingies done. You know, down there.
He told us all about it in the bar.