Don't pity the wife of Old Lot,
Who was turned into salt on the spot;
'Cause she sure got a kick
When the the cows came to lick
At her crusty and saline old twat.
A delver in relics collosal
Unearthed a phenomenal fossil.
He could tell by the bend,
And the wart on the end,
'Twas the Peter of Paul the Apostle.
There once was a priest of Gibraltar
Who wrote dirty jokes in his psalter.
An inhibited nun
Who had read every one
Made a vow to be laid on his altar.
This lady, without any class,
Made music come out of her ass.
It wasn't enough
Farting lieder and stuff,
But Ave Maria, at Mass?
A pious young lady of Chichester
Made all of the saints in their niches stir
And each morning at matin
Her breast in pink satin
Made the bishop of Chichester's breeches stir.
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