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Tits, tits, lovely tits
Bouncing for my pleasure.
Up and down, to and fro,
What a splendid treasure.

Gazing from my window
I watch the tits at play
Bobbing, swinging, dancing,
I could keep it up all day.

Tits of striking colours,
Tits of black and white
But the tits I like the best are those
That pop out in the night

On a chilly winter's morning
I do admire so
The firm stance of the noble tits
As they stand out in the snow.

Today perhaps I'll catch some
And hold them in my mits
And gently stroke and fondle them
Oh, how I do love tits.

Mike Stools (b. 1962)