Butt’s where he will start with cold hands,
after making rash lax demands.
You know it ain’t just hands plans…
tube that greatly expands—
’cause it’s a high probe, it’s a high probe.
He’ll go high with that “eye” and his “Aiye!!” probe.

It’s true he’ll start by getting low,
then “cul”ture is haute.
Just remember those hands.
Chute is groped…hope you’re in propofol land.

Your butt is mauled and your dignity galled,
and you wish you could spurn; up crawls that trawl.

Once it’s in and starting to ram,
your colon gets cold as a clam.
He continues to ram, damn!
Coulda lubed it with Pam.
’cause it’s a high probe, VERY high probe.
He’ll go high toward the sky and your eye globe.

There is no doubt: you’re feeling bad,
more than just a tad.
Expletives transcend, “Damn!!”
He’s muttering, “It’s kinked, yet it won’t scram!”

Feels like you’ve got a coke balloon
up where shines no moon.
On your side you are propped.
You just hope and pray that it will soon stop!