Ballad of the gouda overlord

by James Taylor

He likes to mattress your matris in tents
His name with pudding in Latin doth tense
In huts he captivates figlia gents
   But one white look at this man doth rate
   He uses a vice to masturbate

O come now sing songs of butt plugs in terse
He lubes with pudding from Nederland sirs
A squeeze so tight that his buttocks do blur
   But give him a gal or potentate
   And prostate perversions soon will grate

A charge of bald sex or shock of the new
They both sound their horns from his mound of poo
Placed still as a corpse on fine china blue
   But such sexy dreams do obfuscate
   The fact that he's actually a woman

Oh woman
Oh woman
He's actually a woman

(repeat and fade)