3909

April 2, 1918

In fourteen hundred ninety two
A dago from I-tal-y
Was walking down the streets of Rome,
A-selling hot tamales.

Christopher Colombo,
He knew the world was round O!
That masturbating, fornicating,
Song of a bitch Colombo!

He went up to the Queen of Spain,
And asked for ships and cargo,
And "I'll be a son of a son of a bitch,
If I don't bring back Chicargo!"

The Queen of Spain, she hocked her clock,
To get Colombo started,
She wept and cried all over the dock,
Colombo merely farted.

Colombo piped all hands on deck,
And tied them to the mast O!
And then he took their panties down
And screwed them in the ass, O!

The cabin girl ran down the deck,
The villain still pursued her,
The white of an egg ran down her leg,
Colombo he had screwed her!

Colombo had a one-eyed mate,
He loved him like a brother,
And every night at seven bells,
They hopped upon each other!

And when at last they spied the shore,
It was the coast of Cuby,
Upon the shore there stood a whore,
By God, she was a beauty!

Colombo, he jumped overboard
The crew shed coats and collars,
In fifteen minutes by the clock,
She made nine hundred dollars.

Back to the ship Colombo went.
His prick was red and fiery,
He wiped it on the table-cloth,
And logged it in his diary!

Of all the doctors in Cadis,
There weren't so very many,
The only one Colombo knew,
Was a goddamn Jew named Benny.

So to this doc Colombo went,
His face was calm and placid,
But the goddamn fool filled up his tool
With muriatic acid!

Gordon "Inferno" Collection, #3909; Arch., Monastery, 4/2/18.