The Joys of the ‘G’
Oh ladies of yon I have but a confession to make
Of a habit of late that I long to partake
It involves the infamous ‘G’
I need not spell it out to thee
What comfort, what delight it does impart unto me this light
For though it is considered an item of yore
It is a harbinger of joy and comfort for the sore
Never mind the ‘India’ and ‘Africa’ it bestows
Tis not for those watching but for those wearing that it endows
Hence dear ladies, never shame never fear
To adorn yourself regularly in the G’s of yore that you hear
Tis tender, tis soft, tis cotton candy aloft
Your hoo ha will thank you (though your partner may not)
There’s no words to compare and though there may be those who despair
Wear thy Granny panty with swag and sway
As you walk along and sashay this way
