Balthus, I've got it!
I've got it, got it, got it!
At last my quest has risen to the end
No more hesitation,
Nocturnal masturbation,
Or interludes with perverts at SouthEnd
Like the Mormon and his child-bride,
The Amish and his dog,
A Welshman with a flock of sheep,
A monkey with a nog
No cause of misery or sad depression,
A constant stream of seminal emission
Balthus, I'm ready,
And steady, steady, steady,
The time has come for me to shout 'let's go!'
I'm done with genuflecting,
And canine rear-ending,
This time I've come and old friend you should know
Bursting at the bristles,
Gone is my perplexion,
Whipped up with the thistles,
Behold my bold erection
Returned as from a lonely interlude,
And pianola playing in the nude
Her mother,
Her mother, like everybody's mother,
Retreats into the night they call old age
Oh what is the solution,
To father time's intrusion?
That leaves the erstwhile pert,
Sad and dismayed
Confine her to the kitchen,
Baking bream and bread,
And pedagogue the offspring,
Until her face is red
For man it seems is destined to go on,
Providing little mothers come along
Balthus, I'm throbbing,
And bobbing, bobbing, bobbing,
I'm surely not the first to so conclude
It's standing proud before me,
Already she adores me,
Bath time now a joyful interlude
For the question of completion,
Is surely said and done,
I've found a glabrous chalice,
Under my very thumb
Where once before abroad I used to roam,
I've settled now upon the joys of home
