Once a jolly dragman – camp, bi and really wrong,
blundered around with his boobies to be.
And they sat and they dropped and he reckoned they were really spoiled,
“Full fronted falsies bewildered”, said he.
Poor Bob the builder from near St Kilda,
who wore a D cup and filled her for free.
Yes they sat and they propped and he started feeling paranoid
“full fronted falsies bewildered”, said he.
Then got his thumb stuck, everything was going wrong,
up jumped the dragman and shouted “WHY ME?!”
Something twanged as he shoved his thumb stuck in his upper-drag,
“Full fronted falsies bewildered”, said he.
Then Bob the Builder, all out of kilter,
grabbed at his bra strap with one finger free.
Something twanged as he shoved his thumb-stuck in his upper drag,
“Who’ll help a-falsiing this figure?”, said he.
Up rode a squatter, mounted on his double bed,
Down came the snoopers, 1, 2, 3.
“We heard you got your thumb stuck, somewhere in your upper drag,
We’ll have your falsies re-filled – Double D”.
Bob from St Kilda, day job as builder,
pumped up his fun-bags and grabbed them with glee
“you also need a tum-tuck – look at all that belly-sag -
but first get your falsies familiar", said thee.
But up jumped the dragman, and said “this is a silly song!
You’ll never make me a size Double D."
And this post won’t be heard in the echelons of parody,
quickly dissolving away, you’ll agree.
) - I wouldn't of thought my head would exhaust you Heather, then again, it depends what makes you exhausted. 