*perks up ears at this* That suddenly reminded me of a song called "The Amsterdan Maid"
*scritches scalp and thinks*
Cho:
A roving, A roving,
I'll go no more a roving with you dear maid....
Gah! I can't remember much more of it, save that it's about a lad who sees this sweet little skirt and puts his hand on her foot, (way to low sir!) then on her knee then on her leg and then under her skirt and she makes wonderful little replies to each part he touches until, when he's under her skirt then done she says, "That'll be two fifty please.... with gratuity." (well at least that's how it goes in the Naughty Nymph's version that I have)
*clears throat*
The Maid of Amsterdam
In Amsterdam there lived a maid-
Bless you young woman!
In Amsterdam there lived a maid-
Mark well what I do say!
In Amsterdan there lived a maid,
And she was mistress of her trade,
I'll go a roving with you, fair maid,
Chorus:
A-roving, a-roving, since roving's been my ru-i-n,
I'll go no more a roving wiht you, fair maid.
I put my hand around her waist-
Bless you young women!
I put my hand around her waist-
Mark well what I do say!
I put my hand around her waist;
She says. "Young man, you're in some haste."
I'll go no more a-roving with you, fair maid.
I put my hand on her knee-
Bless you, young women!
I put my hand on her knee-
Mark well what I do say!
I put my hand on her knee;
She says, "Young man, your are rather free."
I'll go no more a-roving with you, fair maid.
I put my hand on her thigh-
Bless you, young women!
I put my hand on her thigh-
Mark well what I do say!
I put my hand on her thigh;
She says. "Young man, you're rather high."
I'll go no more a-roving with you, fair maid.
I put my hand on her snatch-
Bless you, young women!
I put my hand on her snatch-
Mark well what I do say!
I put my hand on her snatch;
She says, "Young man that's my main hatch."
I'll go no more a-roving with you, fair maid.
She rolled me over on my back-
Bless you, young women!
She rolled me over on my back-
Mark well what I do say!
She rolled me over on my back;
And fucked me 'til my bollocks cracked!
I'll go no more a-roving with you, fair maid.
And when I slipped her on the blocks-
Bless you, young women!
And when I slipped her on the blocks-
Mark well what I do say!
And when I slipped her on the blocks;
She says, "Young man, I've got the pox."
I'll go no more a-roving with you, fair maid.
And when I'd spent my whole year's pay-
Bless you, young women!
And when I'd spent my whole year's pay-
Mark well what I do say!
And when I'd spent my whole year's pay;
She slipped her line and sailed away.
I'll go no more a-roving with you, fair maid.
From "What Do You Do With a Drunken Sailor?", by Douglas Morgan. A book well worth taking a look at if you get the chance to.