Hey, Scary Ann,
Hey, are ye man?

Can you wave a tool, the stave that men pull
When playing jackin’ torque, a.k.a. monkey torque?
When you sway, it’s like your boy gait’s perfect.
You’ve got no rack, hon. Are you a woman?

Hey, scary Ann, you a dame, now?
Mams bumps not on display.
Hey, are ye man? You’re no dame, now,
But at a ma’am you play.

So, balls you’re schleppin’, I’m suspectin’. . .
Guy thing is pendant, yet you’re wearing
Cool togs that charm some as you’re raging.
I’m not the glam-chick shtik believing.

Hey, scary Ann, you a dame, now?
Ma’am humps not on display.
Hey, Larry? Stan? You’re no dame, now,
But at that game you play.

You’re so, so guy, not woman, to me
(So not a woman to me)
So Joe, Moe. . . a faux woman I see
Whoa! A faux woman I see

(interdude)

Hey, scary Ann, you a dame, now?
Flat-as-pancake display.
Hey, parry gland? You’re no dame, now…
Put on pancake post-shave.

Peepoles give out sperm, and your drill’s sperming.
Your ruse is gyn’; you’re guy, a deceiver.
You can’t fetch some ova—that’s a chick feat.
If I got a peep, I’d see your swaything.

Way scary fans are insane now,
Crania lacking gray.
Hey, hairy man, you’re no dame, now.
Mams on body? No way!

Scary Ann, hairy man, pair in pants, fare: balls, lance.