See, see the gnarmelled sky
Marvel at its big pistaccio depths.
Tell me, bindegaard do you
Wonder why the aardvark ignores you?
Why its foobly stare
makes you feel kremmerflogged.
I can tell you, it is
Worried by your finacrid facial growth
That looks like
A fish pond.
What's more, it knows
Your Generation X potting shed
Smells of booger.
Everything under the big gnarmelled sky
Asks why, why do you even bother?
You only charm limbergers.
...
Oh flundered gruntbuggly,
Thy micturations are to me
As plurdled gabbleblotchits
On a lurgid bee
That mordiously hath bitled out
Its earted jurtles
Into a rancid festering [drowned out by moaning and screaming]
Now the jurpling slayjid agrocrustles
Are slurping hagrilly up the axlegrurts
And living glupules frart and slipulate
Like jowling meated liverslime
Groop, I implore thee, my foonting turlingdromes
And hooptiously drangle me
With crinkly bindlewurdles,
Or else I shall rend thee in the gobberwarts with my blurglecruncheon
See if I don't.
Marvel at its big pistaccio depths.
Tell me, bindegaard do you
Wonder why the aardvark ignores you?
Why its foobly stare
makes you feel kremmerflogged.
I can tell you, it is
Worried by your finacrid facial growth
That looks like
A fish pond.
What's more, it knows
Your Generation X potting shed
Smells of booger.
Everything under the big gnarmelled sky
Asks why, why do you even bother?
You only charm limbergers.
...
Oh flundered gruntbuggly,
Thy micturations are to me
As plurdled gabbleblotchits
On a lurgid bee
That mordiously hath bitled out
Its earted jurtles
Into a rancid festering [drowned out by moaning and screaming]
Now the jurpling slayjid agrocrustles
Are slurping hagrilly up the axlegrurts
And living glupules frart and slipulate
Like jowling meated liverslime
Groop, I implore thee, my foonting turlingdromes
And hooptiously drangle me
With crinkly bindlewurdles,
Or else I shall rend thee in the gobberwarts with my blurglecruncheon
See if I don't.