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| Kate: |
"The strange desire you feelest strong, that move'd beneath thine leather thong, is not a lust like any other, don't you know? The squire's your MOTHER. "Oh bravest night, don't sow that seed-of-lust, of jealous loins, don't sin like Oedipus," (But 'twas too late, his mother's honour was called into question, Oh! What horror!) The knight we loved as true and pucker, is really just a mother fucker, So what of his fondness for other men's Spam? Well here comes the twist, see... his mum was a man! His mam's his dad, His mam's his dad. She wees out of her front. His mam's his dad! His mam's his dad! She hasn't got a cunt. |
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| Mike: |
But I digress. Damsels in distress are what I should be shagging. My raison d'etre is to win a bet and save one from a dragon. So, squire at side I must ride and go forth on my quest, through stormy gales and winter hails. I'm glad I wore my vest. |
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| Kate: |
The rain was pelting. I felt a melting and discovered my great folly, I wasn't really a brave warrior after all, but an Orange Maid ice lolly. And all along, throughout my song, I'd thought I was perfection. Imagine how I feel right now to find out I'm just confection. I realise your great surprise. I'm sorry about all the lies, but a lollipop is what I am. Damn, damn, damn, damn. Damn, damn, damn. |
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