Seventy-six, Tom Jones was a Super Star
Nineteen Seventy-Six, toured all through the land
Plus appearing on tv shows, where a popular singer goes
Performing with his famous band

Seventy-Six, Tom Jones was a blazing son
Commanding the stage, his trim tight behind
Crazy ladies of passion needs, he mowed down like weeds
Horny babes of every shape and kind

Classy proper bottom nymphs-to-be...loved his rock tunes
Frantic'lly, antic'lly, fought for smiles their way
Screaning off their craniums like blonde buffoons,
Each buffoon...ogled his package sway
Legendary mounted cannon...repaid flattery
Done his thing, flung a fling,...with thousands, maybe more
Pretty broads of every size would grab his shirt and grip his thighs
And trade high desire for a score

Seventy-Six, Tom Jones really had it made
Sparking ladies with rhymes, rang chimes loud and clear
Partied hard with a big bang bong, wild as old King Kong
Flipped his big bang bonger, made gals cheer

Seventy-four, aged now, still racks pounder points
Crowds of clamoring young whore pets..claw the air
Sexy Godesses shake their space, tweak his buns and handsome face
As he oompahs up and down, out there

Hammering one night stands..The British Bear