Buckminster Fuller, inventor of the geodesic dome   Once gave a lecture he entitled 'everything I know'   Taking the title literally, he spoke four years or so   And I intend to do the same, so make yourself at home   (Pull up a chair, smoke a cigar or something)   Cynthia Plaster Caster once took my cast and showed me   In a penis exhibition in a gallery on Broadway   So many people saw my penis in its glass case   They recognise my penis now before my face      The subject for today: does knowledge elevate or demean us?   Everything you didn't want to know about my penis      A baker has a penis thing for flattening the dough   But stick it in the oven and it rises up, like so   The man who chops the melons up with a long and pointed knife   Has a penis with a mottled skin, I know, I asked his wife   (Very curious)   A priest beneath his cassock has a penis just the same   Some call the hypothalamus the penis of the brain   One man's sport is fly fishing, and the other's, pocket billiards   Congratulations, Watson, on your almost-Freudian brilliance      The comedian from hell always thinks he can entertain us   With everything we didn't want to know about his penis      Like the heather of the Highlands, mine is tipped with flecks of purple   With a head as wise as Solomon, although shaped like a turtle   It wears a flesh-tone roll-neck and the neck goes up and down   It comes out in the evenings and on Friday paints the town   Obsessively, compulsively, it only wants one thing   To fill your chosen orifice with ropes of pearly string   Delivering its message to your womb or to your tongue   And then going slack and flaccid when its pressing work is done      In witty conversation, by drip or intravenus   I drop everything you didn't want to know about my penis   (Some sort of Tourettes Syndrome)      It's a very fine philosopher, debating right and wrong   Shows promise as a songwriter (it writes most of my songs)   Don't bury it in boxer shorts but wear it like a tie   Or avant garde jewellery hanging from your fly   (Very chic!)   Jean Luc Godard once declared, to gales of mystified laughter   That some men wash their hands before they touch it, others after   And if you slot it carefully where the sun will never shine   You'll feel what's mine becoming yours, what's yours becoming mine      Well ladies and hermaphrodites, my tender-hearted readers   Everything you didn't want to know about my penis      There was a bohemian monk   Who went to bed in a bunk   He dreamt that Venus   Was stroking his penis   And woke up all covered in...       Thought for the day: does abstinence dirty us or clean us?   Everything you didn't want to know about my penis      It's a tribute to the power of something otherwise mundane   That waving it under a stranger's nose is said to scar his brain   I'm doing my bit to see the power of taboo remains intact:   I keep a penis on my head but never lift my hat   (I keep a penis on my head but never lift my hat)      And if I've bored you stiff with this riff about my penis   I wouldn't let a little thing like that come between us      And if you can think of another song even more atrocious   Well supercalifragilisiticexpifuckingdocious