Tales of Kuchsmann

Well, I gather that you are a lady of taste
for love that is rabid and rampantly paced
So grease up your saddle, I’ll bring out the stud
His name is Hudson Kuchsmann — he’ll answer to Hud
Once he brought a comtessa
to the uppermost peaks of delight
Her rapturous screams
shattered the glass ‘ere she died
You may not make it through the night
Hud, he was born to a life of carnal sin
The doctor first thought him a siamese twin
His mother, the poor thing, survived not his birth
On her face was a smile of orgasmic mirth
Once he satisfied twelve maids at once
None of them homely or plain
Seven of them went insane
from the pleasure and pain
Five of them never walked again
Well, I gather that you are a lady of taste
for love that is rabid and rampantly paced
So grease up your saddle, I’ll bring out the stud
His name is Hudson Kuchsmann — he’ll answer to Hud
Once he caused a disaster
just by walking through a park in the nude
Every woman lost her mind,
every man was turned into a fruit
and all the children grew up lewd