The harems of Egypt are fine to behold,
The harlots the fairest of fair,
But the fairest of all was owned by a sheik,
Named Abdul Abulbul Emir.

A travelling brothel came down from the north,
'Twas privately run for the Tsar,
Who wagered a hundred no one could out-shag,
Ivan Skavinsky Scavar.

Now the sons of the Prophet were hardy and bold
And quite unaccustomed to fear
But 200 a week weren't enough for the sheik
Named Abdul Abulbul Emir.

A day was arranged for the spectacle great,
A holiday proclaimed by the Tsar,
And the streets were all lined with the harlots assigned,
To Ivan Skavinsky Scavar.

All hairs they were shorn, no frenchies were worn,
And this suited Abdul by far,
And he'd quite set his mind on a fast action grind,
To beat Ivan Skavinsky Scavar.

Old Abdul came in with a snatch by his side,
His eye bore a leer of desire,
And he started to brag how he would out shag,
Ivan Scavinski Scavar.

They met on the track with cocks at the slack,
A starter's gun punctured the air,
They were both quick to rise;
the crowd gaped at the size,
Of Abdul Abulbul Emir.

They worked all the night in the pale yellow light,
Old Abdul he revved like a car,
But he couldn't compete with the slow steady beat,
Of Ivan Skavinsky Scavar.

So Ivan he won and he shouldered his gun,
He bent down to polish the pair,
When something red hot up his back passage shot,
'Twas Abdul Abulbul Emir.

The harlots turned green; the crowd shouted "Queen!"
They were ordered apart by the Tsar.
'Twas bloody bad luck for poor Abdul was stuck,
Up Ivan Skavinsky Scavar.

The cream of the joke came when they broke,
'Twas laughed at for years by the Tsar,
For Abdul the fool has left half of his tool,
Up Ivan Skavinsky Scavar.