D D D
I think that I shall never see
A breast so large as triple D;
A boob like that could block the sun
And probably weighs a quarter-ton...
And who could carry such a load?
Or cart them o'er the open road
While all who pass would stop and stare,
Averting eyes from blinding glare;
And what brassiere could hold in place
That breast? It needs an iron brace!
Oh macro-knocker, full of woe,
Could kill when bouncing to and fro;
But death like that I do not fear,
So find that breast, and bring it here!