2 Songwriters 200 Songs


Why don′t I write something beautiful
and about things at hand,
so that you all can listen to my words
and understand, yes, understand?
My granddad cut up old magazines
and hung them on a nail;
when Grandma used them we children were sure
to hear her wail, yes, hear her wail.
I love each sunlit morning and I can tell you why,
I see my toilet paper lie.
And with a grateful yawning and with a thankful sigh
I let the fluffy tissue fly, let it fly.
Oh how I dig this soft fluffy stuff,
the colour I don′t mind:
At least three layers are perfect
and fine for my behind, for my behind.
And thank the Lord I am civilised,
live in a modern land!
Unlike the heathen don′t have to clean my outlet
with my hand, with my left hand.


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