It Was Only a Gypsy

I am a handsome policeman. I am bold and versatile.
My wife is white and beautiful, with breasts of alabaster.
When I hurry home to her, she whispers with a smile,
'What did you do today, my big blue hero?'

'There was only a gypsy,
'A ragged, shaggy blackguard of a didecai.
'Up to no good. I did what I should:
'A little physical persuasion and he passed on by.'

But now I grow impatient to enjoy her juicy beauty,
I surge to the rising rhythms of those breasts of alabaster.
'No,' she cries, 'pray tell me what you did today on duty -
'Tell me more about this hairy gypsy!'

'It was only a gypsy,
'A ragged, shaggy blackguard of a didecai.
'Up to no good. I did what I should:
'A little physical persuasion and he passed on by.'

'But tell me, pretty darling, will you tell me, in your turn,
'Who placed those fresh wild flowers in your breasts of alabaster?
'And when you smile, between your teeth, still wedged, do I discern
'A sprig of whisker from another's moustache?'

'It was only a gypsy', she sighed,
'A ragged, shaggy blackguard of a didecai,
'Up to no good. I did what I could:
'A little physical persuasion and he passed on by.
'It was only a gypsy boy,
'A ragged, shaggy blackguard of a didecai-ai-ai,
'Up to no good. I did what I could:
'A little physical persuasion and he passed on by.'

Between her breasts a hedgerow nosegay,
In between her teeth a tell-tale whisker.
The house is full of clothes-pegs.