I have jaundice, skin color piss my miss,
And I eat boogers for breakfast.
It's just how I roll, no real control,
It's called pica in our caste outcast.
Storms loom, choppy waters ahead,
Alas my shit size will, any boat capsize.
But I don't want to shit outside, my pride,
You can say an ultimate prize.
Lo and behold, I am crusty old,
My teeth coming out of my jaw.
Who would know, where I go,
I'd never conquer what I saw.
I beg and borrow, mix shit with sorrow,
There isn't any joy left in a silent fart.
I wish I could wind the watch, kill a sasquatch,
Begin right again from the very start.
