Ben Franklin Mob H3

(Note: You can make this song short bu just singing the first verse and the chorus)

Four and twenty virgins
Came down from Inverness
And when the ball was over
There were four and twenty less

(Chorus:)
Singing balls to your partners
Ass against the wall
If you’ve never been fucked on a Thursday night
You’ve never been fucked at all!

(Final verse:)
And when the ball was over
Everyone confessed
They all enjoyed the dancing
But the fucking was the best!

(Additional verses, each followed by the chorus:)

First lady forward,
Second lady back.
Third lady’s finger up
The fourth lady’s crack.

There was screwin’ in the parlor,
And screwin’ on the stones,
You couldn’t hear the music,
For the wheezin’ and the moans.

There was fucking in the kitchen,
And fucking in the halls,
You couldn’t hear the music for
The clanging of the balls.

They were fucking in the Barley.
They were fucking in the oats.
Some were fucking sheep,
but most were fucking goats.

There was fucking in the parlor,
And fucking on the stairs,
You couldn’t see the carpet
For the mass of public hairs.

The parson’s daughter she was there,
The cunning little runt,
With poison ivy up her ass
And thistle up her cunt.

The village idiot he was there
Sitting on a pole
Pulled his foreskin over his head
And whistled though the hole.

Little Tommy he was there
He was only eight
Couldn’t fuck the women
So he had to masturbate.

The blacksmith’s brother he was there
A mighty stud was he
Lined ’em up against the wall
And fucked ’em three-by-three.

The village cripple he was there,
He couldn’t move too much,
So he lined the ladies against the wall,
And fucked them with his crutch!

The village policeman he was there,
The pride of the force,
They found him in the stables,
Jacking off the horse!

Little Jimmy he was there,
The leader of the choir,
He hit the balls of all the boys,
To make their voices go higher!

The bride she was there,
Explaining to the groom,
That the vagina not the asshole,
Is the entrance to the womb!