The Descent Of Man
Kate Rancid
(or "Ode On Mike's Vasectomy")

I used to know a man who was a real rugged guy,
The sort of bloke that men respect, but makes the women cry,
The sort of man in winter who'd refuse to wear a vest,
A real man, a tough man, with hairs upon his chest.

He'd laugh at scary lions and kill tigers with his hands,
He'd drink a thousand pints of beer but still be fit to stand,
He'd play his heavy metal at the loudest it would go,
And only wear a flimsy shirt despite six feet of snow.

But then a bad thing happened that would change the poor man's life,
He let a filthy doctor at his bell end with a knife,
And now the manly man's man is a manly man no more,
He's a feeble-wristed queer boy firing blanks and feeling sore


Be the first to comment on ...
The Descent Of Man
           Sign in for easy commenting


Shitespace supports the right to post poor quality poetry on the internet.