Doing It

Uncouth, obscene, that’s what you say
And yet I do it anyway.
You say I’ll meet a nasty fate.
But I have to do it, it feels so great!

I do it in the dark, in bed,
I do it in the garden shed,
I do it in an empty street,
I just can’t stop, it feels so sweet!

I do it when I’m all alone,
And sometimes when I’m on the phone.
I’ve watched myself in mirrored glass,
I do admit it looks quite crass.

But tell me now oh mother dear,
What is it I have to fear?
If the nostril’s no place for it to sit,
Why is the finger a perfect fit?