Buckminster Fuller, inventor of the geodesic dome Once gave a lecture he entitled 'everything I know' Taking the title literally, he spoke four years or so And I intend to do the same, so make yourself at home (Pull up a chair, smoke a cigar or something) Cynthia Plaster Caster once took my cast and showed me In a penis exhibition in a gallery on Broadway So many people saw my penis in its glass case They recognise my penis now before my face
Subject for today: does knowledge elevate or demean us? Everything you didn't want to know about my penis
A baker has a penis thing for flattening the dough But stick it in the oven and it rises up, like so The man who chops the melons up with a long and pointed knife Has a penis with a mottled skin, I know, I asked his wife (Very curious) A priest beneath his cassock has a penis all the same Some call the hypothalamus the penis of the brain One man's sport is fly fishing, another's, pocket billiards Congratulations, Watson, on your almost-Freudian brilliance
The comedian from hell always thinks he can entertain us With everything we didn't want to know about his penis
Like the heather of the Highlands, mine is tipped with flecks of purple With a head as wise as Solomon, although shaped like a turtle It wears a flesh-tone roll-neck and the neck goes up and down It comes out in the evenings and on Friday paints the town Obsessively, compulsively, it only wants one thing To fill your chosen orifice with ropes of pearly string Delivering its message to your womb or to your tongue And then going slack and flaccid when its pressing work is done
In witty conversation, by drip or intravenus I drop everything you didn't want to know about my penis
It's a very fine philosopher, debating right and wrong Shows promise as a songwriter (it writes most of my songs) Don't bury it in boxer shorts but wear it like a tie Or avant garde jewellery hanging from your fly (Very chic!) Jean Luc Godard once declared, to gales of mystified laughter That some men wash their hands before they touch it, others after And if you slot it carefully where the sun will never shine You'll feel what's mine becoming yours, what's yours becoming mine
Ladies and hermaphrodites, my tender-hearted readers Everything you didn't want to know about my penis
There was a bohemian monk Who went to bed in a bunk He dreamt that Venus Was stroking his penis And woke up all covered in...
Thought for the day: does abstinence dirty us or clean us? Everything you didn't want to know about my penis
It's a tribute to the power of something otherwise mundane That waving it under a stranger's nose is said to scar his brain I'm doing my bit to see the power of taboo remains intact: I keep a penis on my head but never lift my hat (I keep a penis on my head but never lift my hat)
And if I've bored you stiff with this riff about my penis I wouldn't let a little thing like that come between us
And if you can think of another song even more atrocious Well supercalifragilisiticexpifuckingdocious
Compositor: Nicholas John Currie ECAD: Obra #5364641