Bad Down-Down
PPI, NCH3
(To the tune of Surf City by Jan and Dean)

He's got a two-inch pecker,
Yet he calls it a woody.

Bad down-down, here we come!

It's hormonally deficient,
It's much smaller than it should be.

Bad down-down, here we come!

It flutters like a feather when the breezes blow,
And if he stuck it in a harriette, she'd never know.

[Chorus}
Well, he got a bad down-down,
As you all can see.
Yeah, he got a bad down-down,
'Cause you called on me.
Well, he got a bad down-down,
As you all can see.
Yeah, he got a bad down-down,
'Cause you called on me.
Let me drink my beer in peace!

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