I once knew a girl, her name was Jean,
The sweetest girl I'd ever seen,
She loved a boy, who was straight and true,
Who longed to play on her ringadangdoo.
The ringadangdoo, pray what is that?
It's furry and soft, like a pussy-cat,
It's got a crack down the middle,
And a hole right through,
That's what they call the Ringadangdoo.
So she took him to her father's house,
And crept inside as quiet as a mouse,
And they shut the door and the window too,
And he played all night on her Ringadangdoo.
The very next day her father said,
'You've gone and lost your maidenhead!
You can pack your bags and suitcase, too,
And bugger off with your Ringadangdoo!"
So she went to town and became a whore,
And hung a red light outside her door,
And one by one and two by two,
They came to play on her Ringadangdoo.
There came to that town a son of a bitch
Who had the pox and the seven-year-itch,
He had gonorrhea and syphilis too--
So that was the end of her Ringadangdoo.