That Prick with the Picks

Ho I am the menstrual man

The mean old menstrual man I am

Once a month I will descend

To make you suffer sorely

Your period you can’t suspend

So prepare to feel quite poorly

And he stamps his little feet

with two picks tied neat

And his chubby little shoes

Beat a merry little tune


You ovum dose quiver

and you feel a shiver

Your smile flips to a frown

as the pain takes you down

Bugger my britches

The pain in these bitches!

My ovaries burn

why the hells it my turn?

It was over a month ago

whys my bodyclock so slow

So crippled and week

I’ll just lay here and weep


Oh woe the menstrual man

stomps on your ovaries you know

a satisfied grunt with every blow

And I know he’ll never stop

he stomps every period

But for three weeks and glad to say

The menstrual man has gone away