Piss off puberty, I'm not at home,
To your hairs in strange places
And your flood of hormones.
I'm sitting in the dark, I'm a lost soul, I'm a loner,
I'm thinking of sad thoughts and you're giving me a boner.
I'm wondering why you're making me get such a stiff cock,
When I'm sitting in the church, the vicars preaching to his flock.
The things you do to me, I don't find pleasing,
When you're making me have a stiffy, for no apparent reason.

I can't look at girls now without thinking of sex.
They were all flat chested one day, now all lumpy the next.
I take my mind off matters by being as busy as I can,
Every spare moment of the day, I'm working with my hands.
I'm looking at my body and I don't like what I find,
So I go to the doctors and hope he can ease my mind.
I sit amongst the sufferers of every known ailment,
But there I sit alone as a sexual deviant.

'Mr Wilcox' says the receptionist, 'your doctor is now free',
Oh no it's my worst nightmare, my doctor is a she.
'It's good that you've come to see me,' she says, 'to get things off your chest',
But now I can't divert my eyes from her heaving breasts.
'I'll give you a quick one,' she says, 'A check up, if you're quick.'
I don't think I can handle this, I think I might be sick.
Blood rushes to my face, my heart begins to pound,
My face isn't the only thing the blood has rushed around.

Concentrating hard, NOT HARD!
Intently concentrating, I undress and the process has been stopped.
But then she bends, picks up a pen and I see right down her top.
'Don't be embarrassed,' she says, 'it's quite alright.' But this should not be goaded,
For the war's begun and I feel my gun is cocked and fully loaded.
'You're perfectly healthy, just one more test, I'd like you to cough.'
Oh god, no please don't touch it, I think it might go off.
'Don't be ashamed,' she says, 'you're not to blame. Puberty is very complex.'
She made me feel better, but I'll never forget her,
As she reached for her box of Kleenex.

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