There was an old woman from ninety-two, parlez-vous

There was an old woman from ninety-two, parlez-vous
There was an old woman from ninety-two, parlez-vous
There was an old woman from ninety-two, did a fart and out it flew
Inky pinky parlez-vous

The fart went rolling down the street, parlez-vous
The fart went rolling down the street, parlez-vous
The fart went rolling down the street, knocked a copper off his feet
Inky pinky parlez-vous

Julie saw the stinky-street, parlez vous
Julie saw the stinky-street, parlez vous
Julie saw the stinky-street, went through her legs and up a tree
Inky pinky parlez-vous

You know who taught me this?
A lady who used to take me and my sister for walks with her sheepdog 'King'. We used to go for walks and sing it along the road. And when we got home we'd go on our swings, and sing it at the top of our voice in the garden.

Which reminds me of the time when we were out walking, a lorry came past and literally blew my sister over and I think she cried. She's older than me too, we always thought it was really funny.