In a nonchalant nook of a meadow and brook
There's a spot where the rules don't apply
It's not easy to find in the rushes enshrined
And you'd have to be ever so spry

It's here, cast aside, that the fairy folk hide
The ones Disney politely declined
Though they twinkle and fly through the midsummer sky
Their employment was less than refined

There's a stout looking sprite in a shimmer of light
With the buzz like a million sighs
Her name sent a shiver straight over you liver
It's Shitwallop, bringer of flies

There's a couple of wimpish and creepy wee imps
Pale yellow, like ageing canaries
It's Wagglebrow-Kisses and Gropetit-Dismisses
The ****** Harassment Fairies

And floating around with a raspberry sound
Leaving sulphurous fumes as she goes
Like a starfish but hairy, the Flatulence Fairy
Queen ******* drifts up your nose

There's so little to write of the Soddomy sprite
That I won't even mention his name
Dodge Flapcrack and Slurpees the Harpies of Herpies
And avoid any friends of the same

If you want my advice, which will have to suffice
Then I'd stay well away altogether
For I've not even touched on the ******* and such
And a fairy looks scary in leather