Glad I don't have a thing known for flopping
When provoked, the damn thing would keep popping
It would get in the way
And keep wanting to play
In the night and all day, hardly stopping.
How the hell d'you ride horses or bikes?
Or suppress the thing when the mood strikes?
It could get a disease
And it shrinks when you freeze
I'd be never at ease, but say "Yikes!"
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