Here's another version, from a web site called Drinking Songs

LARGE BALLS (a.k.a. ANTHONY CLAIRE)

Now, there once was a man called Anthony Clair
He was a very fine jugulaire,
There wasn't a man who could compare
With the way he fiddled and played with his balls.

CHORUS: For they were large balls, large balls,
Balls as heavy as lead.
With a dexterous twist of his muscular wrist,
He could flick them right over his head.
(Be-doom, be-doom, be-doom, be-doom boom, boom)

Now, Anthony was walking down the street,
Just by chance he happened to meet,
A pretty young maid with a dog at her feet,
Watching him fiddle and play with his balls.

Now, Anthony swung 'em round and round,
Let 'em go with a hell of a bound,
Right on the head of the faithful hound,
Watching him play with his balls.

Now, the maiden, she was overwrought,
Swore she'd take the case to court,
For in her opinion no man ought
To be twisting and playing with his balls.

They took him to a magistrate,
Who put him in a cell in state,
And left him there to meditate,
And fiddle and play with his balls.

And when they took the case to court,
The lawyer of the lady sought,
To prove that Anthony shouldn't ought,
To fiddle and play with his balls.

The jury said, "It's a bloody disgrace,
Exposing yourself in a public place,
Whacking your tool in a lady's face,
Twisting and playing with your balls."

The judge and jury couldn't agree,
And the judge said, "It's plain to see,
And really and truly I cannot see,
Why a man shouldn't play with his balls."

Then Anthony gave the crowd a shock,
Bold as brass he left the dock,
Swinging his balls around his cock,
Twisting and playing with his balls.

And this is the moral of this song,
If you play with your balls, you can't go wrong,
So bang your cock against the gong,
And fiddle and play with your balls.