Say what, I shit on your god,
And verily you shit on mine.
We then, shit on each other,
And everything's gonna be fine.
Your shit may be spotty, not god's potty,
Like puked up beet, sweet, you can tell.
Or like stew broth, heads, froth floating,
Rotten carcasses, cooked very well.
In the communion, the priest shits a tonne,
A stampede of devout on the goodly ground.
On this hallowed spot, they wallow nonstop,
Consecrated fat gets mixed by the pound.
Apposite this shit, fit the mixed manly tits,
Plenty pious, the puny, and aplenty pinworm.
Poked and provoked, driven and probed,
Slithering slime sloppy the spaghetti form.
A war of shit, tit, zit, flit, with lips bit,
Start with the fusillade of false pride.
A tottering turd floating ominously,
With its inherent karma on a side, collide.
Holy much hope, shit stopper no scope,
The diarrhea of the chosen few.
"Hey," said the god, a fart, then a nod,
Before his asshole finally blew.
Just a flood, of blood, loud thud,
The dam of patience broken at last.
Freedom as in a game of carrom,
At least the physics can reverse the past.
Top turd has a tumor, but no sense of humor,
Fart bubbles trapped to suddenly burst.
If you step on one, soft squeaky sound,
Remember I told you first.
Shit not wrong, but when shit in a thong,
And sold at an auction for lanky legs.
Sired by a beard, not anyone I feared,
These legs spread wide for full kegs.
The band in this land can be bland,
The drums beaten with drumsticks.
Forfeited the forever, a saintly shit saver,
Bearded whores renowned for their tricks.
Beseech the gods for anal rods,
Deliverance by FedEx tracking needed.
This then caused a beautiful ruckus,
The fierce tribal turds never heeded.
The gods of force, are now all hoarse,
Imaginary voice sucking a soggy dick.
Diabetic feet, droopy nephropathic eyes,
Ganesh is out of order, and very sick.
Sanctimonious now, then, whenever when,
The pious in search of blasphemous ass.
Must pierce in the middle, that's the riddle,
Rule over the rump with pomp and gas.
Who said round, the earth is flat,
The rock was shit splat like this.
The rugged ridges in the forming fart,
Creative pressure in god's piss.
Thus entwined in kiss, heavenly bliss,
The tongues like gyrating hips.
Gargantuan hole waiting for a pole,
These are no ordinary lips.
Every bite a spite, day becomes night,
Holy hangs the best in the brood.
Married to the moon, unmoored tycoon,
His shit always tastes very good.
Times when, god held cheeks, open,
To let his fart inaudibly pass.
But then, garlic to blame, very lame,
Thousands die inhaling his gas.
He did now, the kissing to stop somehow,
Hath not seen fart of this wrath.
The babies did cry, I did not stay dry,
Splattered with shit, in need of a bath.
