My preference be known for larger rumps;
Unable as my conscience be to fib;
All other men, their inner voice be stumped
By sphere-arsed ladies showing waists of wisp.
Her pantaloons of blue have caught me deep
I find my mouth agape, by fisher reeled;
Mine eyes can not avert, t’is bad to sleep;
If artist present, paint a picture real.
I took a warning of such perils round;
Behinds that make my nature think of bed;
Afore my eyes I see this dance renowned;
And as she shakes, so parts of me pump red.
Pretenders to the throne in waifish guise;
My queen be large, be fat – no time for lies.