"There’s A Kind Of Tush"

There’s a kind of tush
I love on a girl – not slight.
I love on a girl a big rear. Those round earth mothers I love,
don’t want no string bean
just a super-plus, a waddlin’ belle in tights …
where go bottoms swelled, man, I’m feelin’ wood when they roll in sight!

Now Miss Ann C.’s too spare for me.
Roseanne, now, is who thrills, she’s so unlean
she’s splittin’ her seams.
That phony mound girls used to wear
–the bustle–ought to reappear,
for many could use
its clever butt lev’rage.

Were behinds all plush, I’d love all the girls in sight --
I long for a world full of Hottentots, each one hot to trot.

La La-la-la La-la La
La La-la-la La-la La
La-la-la La-la-la L-la-la
La-la La-la-la

There’s a kind of tush I love on a girl – not slight.
I love big girls! Geez, I bust with lust for butterball molls.
… just for butterball molls.
… lust for butterball molls.
Lust.