She was far from small, as I recall
And a rather cumly lass
All men would say, as she passed their way
"what a love piece of asssssss...."
Ask her where she came from, she'd say
"My lips are sealed"
But a good guess would be Bristol
Or possibly Tenfield

And in every pub in Snodland
They still do speak her name

She was a sport - or so I heard
And did play many games
The soul of men's discretion
She did not mention names

She loved to go horse racing
and her phone was studied hard
But didn't need a race track
To go right through the guard

And in every pub in Snodland
They still do speak her name

One day I did go off with her
And played in the hay
She promised me most anything
Just to have me stay
She whispered [bad word] here, [bad word] lover, please draw near.
You're going where no man has been"
I said "What ? In your ear ?!"

And in every pub in Snodland
They still do speak her name

We knew not where she came from
But since the day she went
We all do sadly miss her
In our little heart of Kent
In every pub in Snodland
They still do sing this song
 [bad word] was her name,
Virgin for short"
But we all knew - not for long !

And in every pub in Snodland
They still do speak her name
And in every pub in Snodland
They still do speak her name