Song for the Douche.
Cease to lure us ’bout the ocean,
Neptune’s is an easy couch,
Listen while a fellow patient
Sings the dangers of the Douche;
Stripped and shivering—quite defenceless—
Stunned by its terrific roar—
Now you’re shouting—now you’re senseless—
Now you’re dashed upon the floor.
Hark! the bathman loudly bawling,—