The maiden stood on the firey deck,
The villian he pursured her,
The white of an egg ran down her leg,
The son of a bitch had screwed her.

This was the rhyme sung around the small town in Missouri where I was raised. If your parents heard you singing it you got a real butt whippin' with whatever they could find. Paddle, razor strop, belt, switches, etc. We only sang it when no grownups were around. I didn't know it had quite a history behind it.