I stoop to poop, jump through hoops,
Constipation is really bad.
A while back I also had piles,
At least now I'm much less sad.
This god I pray, says to me one day,
His shit he shoots like snot.
I tried to do the same, an effort quite lame,
Now I think he's a lying bigot.
Once my shit is shot, I'll drink my piss hot,
That always soothes a harried mind.
Deep down, brown feces frown,
Not at all happy in the bind.
What's more, my asshole is sore,
The shit's hanging halfway out.
Don't know what to do, maybe voodoo,
An african god with major clout.
When I grow old, I'll sell my shit as gold,
It's getting that color I've noticed.
Or maybe I'll go insane, break window panes,
Stand in a corner always pissed.
