Screwed

They buried me
in sixty-three
and June was shocked and crying.
I don't know how,
the silly cow;
I told her I was dying.

When I first got
a septic spot
right on the top of my dick,
it wasn't good
and I so should,
have stopped when dipping my wick.

What can I say,
I'm not a gay
and I was young and able.
I'd never cringe
if there was minge
and it was on the table.

So be aware,
all you out there;
there's more to life than screwing!
If you're not cute,
your throbbing flute
could be your sad undoing.