I sat and watched the ladies in the office o'er the street;
I waved, and one ignored me, one waved back, and one dear sweet
Blew kisses while the fourth, who to mankind is a boon,
Bent over, pulled her skirt up high, and offered me the moon.

I stood, pulled down my trousers.  There I stood erect and proud;
Three faces at the window pressed, like Wordsworth's daffy crowd.
One giggled, one undid her blouse and flashed a lovely pair,
The third bent down, this time sans pants, and showed her derriere.

I stood, massaging percy, 'cos alas I ain't too bright,
When came a car, with siren and pretty flashing light.
The prude among this babe quartet had telephoned a cop;
Who marched me off to jail with muttered "This we gotta stop."

And thus you'll understand, m'lud, why I ain't too ecstatic;
I thought this country free and fair, and wholly democratic.
I'd 75% approval rating for my stunt,
Far more than Blair or Bush or other governmental cunt.

I think that exclamation must have brought the judge up short;
I'm charged with gross indecency, and now contempt of court.
So if this is the last poor verse you ever get from me,
You'll know that I'm in Broadmoor* and they've thrown away the key.

*Instititution for the criminally insane.