There was an old farmer who sat on a rock, Watching the little boy play with his   Marbles and cronies in the springtime of yore, When his little companion was a great big fat   Decent young lady, who sat on the grass And when she rolled over, showed the shape of her   Shoes and her stockings, which fitted her like a duck She said she was learning a new way to   Bring up her children and teach them to knit While the boy in the pasture was taking a   Pretty little girlie down to the crick Where he said he would show her the length of his   Rowbot, which was anchored down by the falls, On the way down he slipped and he injured his   Finger and he cursed like a Jew. He wished he had a gun with which he could hunt And started out on the trail of a   Rabbit, which bounded away over the sod, You may think this is bull-shit, but it isn't, by God. From pg 139 of the Canfield Collection. See here: https://archive.org/details/1926canfieldcollection/page/n139/mode/2up Dated ca 1926, this important collection of American bawdy songs is comparable to the Gordon 'Inferno' Collection at the Library of Congress.
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