I walked the street with my prick to my feet,
I heard a voice come to me,
A lovely maid looked out and said,
"I need someone to screw me !"
Said I, "My dear, you needn't fear,
For I have heard your pleading,
It's very plain I can ease your pain,
I've got just what you're needing."

I've heard of you, my wayward boy,
Your name is known quite widely,
But I can't come down, I'm sad to say,
My door is bolted tightly.
My father is a Minister, my maidenhead does cherish,
So every night he locks me tight, so horny do I perish.

She stood out there in the midnight air,
With the wind blowing up her hinder,
And her arse all bare and her cunt all hair,
So I climbed up right behind her.
Said I, "Young maid, don't be afraid,
The pleasures can be thrilling,
If you're someone who wants some fun,
The wayward boy is willing."

She jumped into bed and covered up her head,
And she swore that I couldn't find her,
But I knew damned well she lied like hell,
So I jumped in right behind her.
I shoved old Pete right through the sheet,
And up her organ grinder, the white of an egg ran down her leg,
And the rest remained inside her.

On the very next stroke, the damn bed broke,
Her father came a-gunning,
I hit the floor with my prick all sore,
I got to my feet a-running.
I left that lass in my bare arse, as a shotgun blast did find me,
For weeks in bed I was picking out lead,
With a mirror held behind me.

As years went by, I thought with a sigh,
When fancy did remind me,
So one fine day I made my way, to the girl I left behind me,
She was still locked in to keep off men,
She didn't look much older,
But she'd had her joys; three girls, four boys,
And a baby on her shoulder.