I am ashamed to say I do have the words of a song by that name...not that I have ever sung it!! Would those of a gentile persuasion please avert their eyes at this point. THE FARTING CONTEST I'll sing you a ditty that's certain to please Of a grand farting contest at Sefton-on-Tees Where all the best arses paraded the field To compete for a cup and a lovely gold shield. In one competition they'd fart up the scale, Which wins them a cup and a bottle of ale, While others whose arses was biggest and strongest Compete in the contest for loudest and longest. 'Twas this competition that drew the best crowd And betting was evens on Mrs McLeod, For news had appeared in the midday edition That this lady's arse was in perfect condition. Then the ladies lined up for the contest to start And, winning the toss, Mrs Jones took first fart. With hands on her hips and her legs well apart She blew the roof off the grandstand just for a start. Now old Mrs Hobbs had a perfect backside With a great big carbuncle and a wart on each side. She thought 'twas a cert that she'd win with ease Having trained on a diet of porter and peas. Old Mrs McLeod then shyly appeared; She smiled at the clergy who lustily cheered. The people around stood in silence and wonder As the wireless announced both gale warning and thunder. Old Mrs Pothole was called to the front; She started by doing a remarkable stunt. With legs opened wide she clenched tightly her hands And blew off the roof of the popular stands. Next came Mrs Winkle who thought nothing of this: Having trained on weak tea she was all wind and piss. She took up the stand and the crowd she defied Till she shat in her pants and was disqualified. Mrs Bingle arrived amidst roars of applause; And promptly proceeded to pull down her drawers. She thought she'd no chance in the contest at all, But she beat the whole lot and out-farted them all. With hands on her hips, she stood farting alone And all were amazed at her sweetness of tone. Then the judges agreed, without hindrance or pause: 'First prize Mrs Bingle, you may pull up your drawers'. Then she walked to the rostrum with maidenly gait To receive from the vicar a set of gold plate. Then turning around and facing the ring She farted the last verse of God Save the King.
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