In honor of Mr. Carlin, a classic bawdy ballad.
On the site I located it at, it's listed as "traditional",
no credit given to the writer, but this seems dubious to me...
~~~Laika

.
FOUR LETTER WORDS

Four letter Words, those four letter Words,
That never quite say what they mean.
We'd rather be known for our hypocrite ways
Than as vulgar, impure, or obscene.

When Nature is calling, plain speaking is out,
When the ladies, God bless 'em, are milling about,
You make wee-wee, make water, or empty the glass;
You can powder your nose; Even jolly's the farce;
Shake the dew off the lily; see a man 'bout a dog;
Or when everyone's soused, it's condensing the fog,
But be pleased to consider and remember just this;
That only in Shakespeare do characters-

Repeat Chorus

Now A woman has bosoms, a bust or a breast.
Those lily-white swellings that bulge 'neath her vest;
They are towers of ivory, or sheaves of new wheat;
In a moment of passion, ripe apples to eat.
You may speak of her nipples as small rings of fire
With hardly a question of raising her ire;
But by Rabelais's beard, she'll throw several fits
If you speak of them roundly as good honest-

Chorus

Cavern of joy you are thinking of now,
A warm, tender field just awaiting the plough
It's a quivering pigeon caressing your hand,
Or the national anthem that makes a man stand.
Or perhaps it's a flower, a grotto, a well,
The hope of the world, or a velvety hell.
But, friend, heed this warning, beware the affront
Don't try Anglo-Saxon and call it a-

Chorus

Though a lady repel your advance, she'll be kind
Just as long as you intimate what's on your mind.
You may tell her you're hungry, you need to be swung,
You may ask her to see how your etchings are hung.
You may mention the ashes that need to be hauled;
Put the lid on her sauce-pan, even lay's not too bold;
For the moment you're forthright, get ready to duck;
The girl isn't born yet who'll stand for "Let's-

Chorus x2