Juggling breasts by the dozen on stage,
For titillation, is becoming the rage.
As they fly through the air
You get more than one pair.
The audience go on the rampage.

But fear not for our jugglers fair
For Punchy has a magical pair:
With one that squints west
It spots trouble and pests
And punters whose bottoms are bare.

‘John, really you should put that away.
You know what the people will say?
“With an arse of that size
A boat you’d capsize,”
Trousers up, sit down now and stay.’

Well, the show was a roaring success
Flying boobs are a wow, I confess –
And in the cheap seats
Ushers sold treats.
What they were is anyone’s guess.

On leaving John put on his frock,
Dressed as Katie to avoid the shock
Of meeting a student,
It wouldn’t be prudent,
To walk round showing his c*ck.