Ball of Ballyknure

melody: itself

Four and twenty virgins
Came down from Inverness,
And when the ball was over
There were four and twenty less. 

Singing, balls to your partners,
Arseholes against the walls,
If you never got laid on a Saturday night,
You’ll never get laid at all.

Four and twenty prostitutes
Came up from Glockamore,
And when the ball was over
They were all of them double bore.

The village cripple he was there,
He wasn’t up to much,
He lined ’em up against the wall,
And diddled ’em with his crutch.

The Queen was in the parlor,
Eating bread and honey,
The King was in the chambermaid,
And she was in the money.

First lady forward,
Second lady back,
Third lady’s finger
Up the fourth lady’s crack.

The village policeman he was there,
The pride of all the force,
They found him in the stable,
Wanking off his horse.

The village plumber he was there,
He felt an awful fool,
He’d come eleven leagues or more
And forgot to bring his tool.

There was humping in the hallways
And humping in the ricks,
You couldn’t hear the music
For the swishing of the dicks.

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