Heard this from a lad called Martin McDonald back in Glasgow around the 90s:

Mrs o'leary was ninety two,
She did a wee fart and away it flew,
over the hills and over the lane,
and onto the farmers window pane,
The farmer came out with a rusty gun,
and shot the wee fart and away it run,
over the hills and over the lane,
and back up mrs o'leary's bum again