I'm fit to fart, now again I start,
God willing a tempest storm.
This september I'll roil the rough winds,
The smell of rotten egg signal my form.
It's a holy day, when you can fart and be gay,
And nothing leaks out that you know.
I feel pleased my fart released,
Now I clean my asshole also.
My farts restored, the gods scored,
Imodium stopped the diarrhea robust.
Bells in hell ringing I can tell,
Celebration through farts a must.
My room smells like shit I admit,
My flat like a rectum in remorse.
Hopelessly I tried to fart,
What came out was poop of course.
My pants in poop, my bed sheets too,
They are all diligently caked in brown.
The floor is brown, the wall a spray,
Hell I swear my mirror has a brown frown.
My shit smells bad, the neighbors are mad,
I'm a devout religious man.
See the language people use these days,
Also now overflowing my commode pan.
I'm a brown man, I'm also full of brown shit,
Can't tell where shit ends and I begin.
That’s why I fart a lot, just so that I know,
The bubbles tell me what I'm seeing.
