Popcorn Of The French
When tapdancing down the Champs Elysees
You must wear an iron codpiece
You don't want the French to think you are gay
Just think of all the things they'll say
(They're trying to French kiss your niece!)
When snorkelling down the Grand Canal
You should leave the protective at home
You don't want the locals all calling you 'pal'
Or quoting an edict from Rome
That likens your son to Prince Hal
When tiptoeing down the Great White Way
A chunk of iron is handy
No doubt, ere long, you'll be in a fray
It happens almost every day
Unless you're Mahatma Gandhi
When suffling down old Basin Street
Keep a rubber duck at your side
An iron codpiece would be indiscreet
When worn by a non-blushing bride
In estrus, or shall we say, "heat?"
| Contributors: | F, Ventnor, Grayman, Beefy, loaf, Big Andy. |
| Poem finished: | 3rd December 2003 by Beefy. |