HANGING DOWN

I see your meat is hanging down;
it's time it rose and went to town.
Let my face give it a close peep,
then kiss it till it's roused from sleep.

Yours is the real Sleeping Beauty,
till it's time to do its duty,
when like a chain saw it fires up
and ready to give me a tup.

Your bits are like a fleshy frog,
but when got up you're like a dog,
when kissed frog turns to sceptered prince
you'll make in me deepest imprints.