‘Twas a vex and a hex of the six pixie vixen,
with whom Lord Wex would oft have sex and mix in.

Taking treks without checks, the cocks’ gawks do mock some,
But, nae, this is Rex, and lo, from the decks, it shocks ’em.

He fucks all the schmucks, causing shakes, quakes, & breaks of
All run of lucks, for all of the cucks with brakes off.

With his schticks and his tricks, he attacks hacks & quacks, son,
And Rents down the bricks, proffering kicks to the Saxon.

The blokes and the folks by the Greeks’ peaks & creeks,
Wearing their cloaks, do tell these sad jokes for weeks.

Mad Pikes on their hikes talk of dukes, kooks, and jukes,
Alongside the sikes, hearing mischievous tykes’ rebukes.

Of the Sheikh’s prized fleeks, the foxy hocks he locks in,
A harem of cheeks now left to their reaks and toxin.

And jocks in their socks, with the pricks, dicks and cliques,
Look at their clocks, not knowing their tocks from ticks.

Tales of the wrecks of Rex, and his tracks on shacks & backs,
Are carried in becks, and around all the necks & in cacks.

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