Sausages from my ass, fluffy with gas,
Are my pride and joy.
Sometimes they are hard,
I mould for my boy a toy.
As a sage of this age,
My shit is always plump.
I am quite good-looking,
Especially the hole in my rump
I keep versions of shit, with git,
You can check them online.
Guthub or Shithub in my case,
There I am online all the time.
Turds on the carpet, clearly perfect,
Hallelujah for god I rejoice.
You can tell I'm cooing sweetly,
I have a sweet voice.
The divine slime, free all the time,
That comes out during flu.
I use it as jelly on bread,
The smell is awful but true.
Truth is more interesting I think,
Far removed from contrived shit.
It's really strange that people,
Think their fiction the best bit.
We are all really dumb same,
Just a fucking ape.
Throwing shit at each other,
Murder, bullshit and rape.
The doomed attempts at generosity,
Are fucked and bleeding still.
Humanity cavorting with what is awful,
That's what they did, and still will.
And that's the reason I eat my shit,
To show it can be done.
What else can I do,
If people stop having fun.
This merry fucking year, oh dear,
I will enjoy the flashbacks of twenty two.
Mainly in a shit stall masturbating,
Wondering where I am or who.
