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You are old my sweet lover
Based on a poem by Lewis Carroll – ‘You are Old Father William’

"You are old, my sweet lover," the young girl said,
"And your hair is becoming quite white;
And yet you incessantly make love till dawn
Do you think, at your age, it is right?

"In my youth," her sweet lover replied to this girl,
"I feared it might injure the brain;
But, now that we’ve both lost the marbles we have,
Why, I do it again and again."

"You are old," said the girl, "as I mentioned before,
And you have grown most uncommonly randy;
And your hand frequently goes down the front of my pants
How is it you’ve become so handy?"

"In my youth," said the sage, as he shook his grey locks,
"I kept my limbs supple and lithe
My fingers and hands have become quite adept
At making you wriggle and writhe

"You are old," said the young girl, "and for someone your age
Your willy’s uncommonly strong;
Your enormous erections can last all the day
Tell me, how do you keep them so long?"

"In my youth," her dear lover replied with a smile,
I took potions of dried monkey glands;
But I’ve found that, now older, much better results
Are achieved with the use of your hands."

"You are old," said the young girl, "one would hardly suppose
That your balls were prolific as ever;
Yet you manage an orgasm once every hour
What made you so awfully clever?"

"I have answered three questions, and that is enough,"
Said her lover. "Don't give yourself airs!
Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?
Take your clothes off and be off upstairs”.