I might be a few years to late
As this has been decades in the making

But I'm going through with a commune
To give a few hippies something to do

So I wrote an ad, put it on a list
They say this guy Craig is the best

Now my yard is filled with hippies by the score
Or would the proper way be to say hippies galore

I hurried them all into the house
It wouldn't do for the neighbors to find this out

I set up booths in different rooms
I handed out name tags and colorful kazoo's

Don't let it be said I run a shabby commune
You gotta keep the hippies happy in all you do

That's why I have a calendar of special events
From karaoke kazoo to rug making with hemp

On Tuesday's we basket weave, Wednesday's we kite
But never in the day as hippies burn in the light
(Or is that Vampires...scratch that, that may not be right)

I even hired a Jerry Garcia look a like
To call out the numbers on Bingo night

All this hard work hasn't gone for not
Communes and Jefferson Airplane tunes last week called me up

They'd like to feature me in their magazine
A full page article on living the dream

Where I can help others to have their very on
Commune to invite a few hippies along

So go out if you can to a magazine stand
Read how it's done then buy you some land

We'll have hippie commune's from one end to the other
No color nor creed just sisters and brothers

Little Timmy had a tiny ****.

He ****** and he ******,
but women never noticed him.

He could go for hours on end,
plowing and ******* again and again.

He ******* more women than anyone around
and not one of them ever noticed, nor muttered a sound.

But he got his satisfaction, one stroke at a time,
and remembered them all in his tiny little mind.