When I was growing up in the deep south,
Things were pretty easy and laid back.
Whittling on a stick didn't cost a buck,
And I didn't have to float a loan to get fucked.
Laying in a hammock stretched between trees,
Shelling peanuts and swatting mosquitoes,
Watching fireflies glow and counting stars,
Jacking-off was by the numbers.
Now one needs a patch to get laid,
Caffeine free suppositories for hemorrhoids,
Honey glazed condoms for a prick
And a frigging drive-thru to get licked.
Sipping lemonade from Mason jars was fun,
A penis was a dick and not a rooster
And I didn't need a shot or booster
For the frigging clap.
Now senior citizens have flavored denture glue,
Skin magazines have large print.
What ever happen to the good old days,
When pussy came with get well cards?
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