That has inspired me, but it's not ready yet. In the meantime:
Big Smalls (temporary title)
I’ve washed out all the skidmarks and the socks that smell of cheese
Now all that’s left is while he sleeps, to spray him with Febreeze.
The next day if the laundry’s blowing gaily on the line
It’s a signal to him now home from work, he’s in for a good time.
My tumble drying friends are worried, it’s my pants that make them blush
But the sight of them a-swinging makes my fella turn to mush.
“Don’t you mind your pants a-swinging there, they’re practically antiques?”
“No,” I say, “They’re so immense; folks mistake them for my sheets.”
So when you’re feeling frisky and life needs a bit of spice
Get your swingers on the line, washed and ready to entice.
Just make sure you peg them down to keep them safe and sound
Mine have blown across to France before, but luckily were found
The fella that they landed on was shocked and quite surprised
I believe he is still suffering and still rather traumatised.
Apparently he’d never seen big swingers of that kind
He was found repeating, "Mon Dieu, I ‘av gone blind!”
So now I am more vigilant, I don’t want them to escape
I can’t have them enveloping some poor monsieur and his crepe.