Boss returning from the wars,
Wearied out with wounds and jars,
Tells the tale of blood and strife,
Woe and suffering to his wife;
"Never mind, dear Boss," she said,
"Your tool is safe - let's go to bed."

Through my brain strange musings ran,
Deeply pondering: "What is man?"
Still the question I resolve,
Philosophic doubts to solve:
"What is man? I'll tell you true,
He's but a pizzle's dirty spew!"