Christopher Columbo In fourteen hundred and ninety-two A man whose name was Chris Stood by the Trevi fountain Indulging in a piss. CHORUS: His balls they were so round-o His cock hung to the ground-o That fornicating, copulating son-of-a-bitch Columbo. Along did come the Queen of Spain And glimpsing there his dong, Forthwith was smitten with desire And knew not right from wrong. "Oh, Isabelle," Columbo said, A-waving of his balls, "The world is round as these are, I feel that duty calls." "Just wait a bit," said Isabella. "And don't forget essentials, For I've a mind to have a grind And check on your credentials." She gave her guest no time for rest, The pace was fairly killing, With legs apart he gave the tart A cream and cherry filling. For forty days and forty nights He sailed the broad Atlantic, Columbo and his scurvy crew For want of a screw were frantic. And when they got to Yankee land They spied a Yankee harlot When they came her cunt was lilly-white When they left her cunt was scarlet. With lustful shout they ran about And practiced copulation And when they left to sail away They doubled the population. And when his men pulled out again, And reckoned all their score up, They'd caught a pox from every box That syphilized all Europe. ( A slander, but that's the folk process for you. )AJS Locker Room Ballads; (no author or editor) introduction by Michael Green; (C) 1967 & 1968, Ace Books, NY, 441-48800-060. Also in Why Was He Born So Beautiful and other Rugby Songs, (no author), Sphere Books, London, 1968 AJS
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