The Battles

In the Battles of the sexes
As the war goes to and fro
Guys are armed with cock and balls
 Gals, tits, ass and camel toe

Men, when planning forays,
Have an extra head to think
They use the one, without a brain,
When confronted by the pink

They must prepare their weapons
And reload them them constantly
Women always ready
When they meet the enemy

Lying there in ambush,
With their booby traps for the men
Who know there is a mine field
That they must traverse again

For somewhere in the middle
Is a foxhole in the fight
A place to shoot his weapon
And to snipe from out of sight

To get him there was her hole plan
Squeezing tight and giving thanks
That, if it is a one night stand,
He's wearing ribbed, or shooting blanks.

And so the war goes on and on
With each side keeping score
The battlefield, most times, a bed
Sometimes, the shower or the floor.

Any place that's advantageous
In all positions for the bout
Her foxhole is the winner
As he's moving in and out

When he's out of ammunition
And retreating from the field
She toasts,“Here's to our next battle,
Or maybe I'll give up and yield”