Macc Lads Man In The Boat
Her tits hung low, but her arse was flabbier,
My fingers went in search of the pouting labia
Smelled dead strong, I thought I'll have a bit of this
And my tongue went looking for the clitoris
Can't f..cking find it - where's the man in the boat?
The bastard's disappeared, she must be faking
Its like trying to find a bean in ten pounds of bacon
Loads of hair and uncooked mutton
There's no sign of a little pink button
Can't f..cking find it - where's the man in the boat?
She turned over to watch Eastenders
There must be a diagram someone could lend us
Tried further up, got no reaction
Trust a bloody woman to have such a contraption
