A daughter of a farming man, a la** with raven locks. I met her at the co*k & Bulls, a tavern by the docks. Although we courted but a week, my love for her persisted, For when with her, we swived in ways I never knew existed! Chorus: She's a who*e, yes a who*e, A la** of myth and lore. A pontifex of oral s**. She'll ride you till you're sore. Yes, she's a who*e, yes a who*e. She is dear to fleet and corps. Her legs are splayed, we'll all get laid By the who*e that we adore. Her bosoms were named Mary, for they were pure and white. Her muff was named Elizabeth, 'cause it was nice and tight. Her nips were named Daisy and Rose, for they're like flowering buds. But her a** was named the River Thames, 'cause it is full of mud! Chorus Well, soon after we parted ways, I saw her with me friend. They courted but a week or two, but that came to an end. She then did hop from bed to bed, but what made me so mad, 'Twas after several months had pa**ed I saw her with me dad! Chorus One day, while at the tavern here, I heard unhappy news. This country la** had died of clap - oh, what a j**el to lose. 'Tis not as sad as one may think, as I soon realized, For all those saints now pa** her 'round that big bed in the sky! Chorus THAT who*e!