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THE MORNING SONG....FOR NON-MORNING PEOPLE I woke early one morning, The earth lay cool and still. When suddenly a tiny bird, Perch on my window sill. He sang a song so lovely, So carefree and so gay. That slowly all my troubles, Began to slip away. He sang of far off places, Of laughter and of fun. It seemed his very trilling, Brought up the morning sun. I stirred beneath the covers, Crept slowly out of bed. And gently lowered the window, And crushed his fucking head. Robert
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BURN, SUBURBS, BURN Burn rubber baby suburb baby, burn! The gluttonous gluteus maximus No new tax for us Deep fat fry, suburb blubber baby-butt, cry Whip the whimp, the baby-boomer gloom-and-doomer Baby bought the fiscal fiasco Baby brought the strategy tragedy So sue God for the Damnages
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2
I was desperate, I was weary I prayed for holy guidance from above I thought she came to lead me through the darkness But then I felt a probing rubber glove...
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3
There once was a woman from Bombay, She carved a pussy out of clay. The heat from his dick, Turned it into brick, And ripped all his foreskin away.
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4
Here lies the bones of Screwy Dick, He spent his whole life with a corkscrew prick, He searched and he searched in the feudal hunt, To find the woman with the corkscrew cunt. He finally found her and then dropped dead, The son-of-a-bitch had a left hand thread. Sent by Todd
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