As she walked along the Bois de Boulogne,
With a heart as heavy as lead,
She wished that she was dead,
For she'd lost her maidenhead,
She was all forlorn and covered in spawn,
And her cunt was worn,
Her knickers were torn,
She's the girl who lowered the price at Monte Carlo.
As he walked along the Bois de Boulogne,
With his prick upon the stand,
All the girls they say it's grand,
Just to take it in their hand,
You can give them a bob and they're on the job,
Pulling the foreskin over the knob,
Of the man who broke the bank at Monte Carlo.
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