Roger's Lame Pop Culture Corner

Iron Man, Iron Man,
Does whatever an iron can
Presses pants, any size,
Sprays out steam, from his eyes
Wake up!
Here comes the Iron Man.

Is he hot?
Listen, whore,
He's got three settings, maybe four.
Can he swing, from a cord?
He does, and the warranty is void
Who cares?
There goes the Iron Man

In the back of a closet
Next to the washing line
His flat pointy head
Is caked with rust and lime

Iron Man, Iron Man
Not that useful Iron Man
Bulky and lame
He's ignored
Useless without an ironing board

Cheaper than a dry cleaner
But he might scorch your wiener
Sod off, you Iron Man

(Sung to the tune of "George of the Jungle")