It was the day birds died,
the day of departure.
Seeing you knelt on our bed,
trussed like pig on a stick
taking it boy scout style;
gave me an erection.
I was embarrassed.
Why not a Shirley Temple lie
while licking a lollipop?
It would have been sweeter
than grunts of infidelity.
I could have pretended.
The twelve bore, as snug
as Harry's hairy bollocks,
lay asleep behind its blued-steel door.
Your bore was less safe.
Harold was a 90's dose master,
the one,
the only eternal crab carrier.
I woke the sleeping weapon
blasted your two poodles;
one barrel per parody.
And departed.
minor edit with thanks to those who gave feedback.
Quote:original;
I'm Going to Your Mother's House...
It was the day birds died,
the day you, me, us departed.
Seeing you knelt on our bed
trussed like pig on a stick
taking it boy scout style;
gave me an erection.
I was embarrassed.
Why not a Shirley Temple lie
while licking a lollipop?
It would have been much sweeter
than grunts of infidelity.
I could have pretended.
The twelve bore was as snug
as Harry's hairy bollocks,
lay asleep behind its blued-steel door
your bore was less safe.
Harold was a 90's dose master,
the one,
the only eternal crab.
I woke the sleeping weapon
blasted your two poodles;
one barrel per parody.
And departed.
i used departed at the end in the hope of hooking back to the start, not sure if it works.