I lost my mind and composed this one in honor of this unique theme:

Poor Jon was a young lad who toiled in tall cotton.
A handsome young fellow who'd be long forgotten
Were it not for the time, when most lads were at war,
Young Jon found himself, after work, in a bar.

A hard-working crew of young ladies came in,
They were doing men's work, a-getting crops in..
They were all filling in for their male counterparts,
Engaged in some battle in far distant parts.

They soon cast their eyes on our hero, Big Jon,
Who, noting the attention, began leading them on.
And then, in a flash, poor Jon was surrounded
For the young ladies' ardor, nay, lust - soon abounded.

He was, after all, the first man they had seen
Since their regular consorts had marched from the scene.
They grasped at his shirt, and soon ripped it to shreds,
They went for the breeches, filling poor Jon with dread.

For what, after all, could one gentleman do,
To satisfy such a libidinous crew?
He made for the door, lost his boots in the scuffle,
With his pants at the half-mast, he mastered the shuffle.

He shed them right smartly as he ran down the stairs,
With the girls in pursuit and himself nearly bare.
What saved him from hell, at the hands of those pickers,
Was the timely invention of breakaway knickers!

He sprinted, he galloped, he ran double fast,
He eluded them finally, albeit bare-assed.
And so Jon's reputation continued to grow,
Where the women are lusty and the tall cotton grows.

He saved those young maidens from the dread Scarlet Letter,
But, now, thinking on it, he could have done better.
Were it me, praise the Lord, I'd have lain down and took it,
But poor feckless Jon, why, the fool just forsook it.

When the question of honor thus clouded his thinking,
Jon fled from the scene with his "tail lights" a-blinking.
I'm sure the girls' menfolk were grateful and all,
But they laughed ever after 'bout how Jon missed the Ball.