-> "Flush"
Original Song Title:
"Mosh"
Parody Song Title:
"Flush"
Parody Written by:
Nib Oswald
The Lyrics
Why's sludge all seeping on my rugs?
It is a tidal wave of your ejecta.
"Faecal it's from your butt! Flush that crap!"
Restroom isn't public so wash your hands.
Yuck fragrance. Thunder box.
Urine drizzling and cistern full of substances foul.
"Flush, will you now!"
Polluting my loo with turds. Each the size of a lime.
Excrete a bunch of stool forever piling with grime.
It's a frightening find. The stench bites and it chines.
Expected bright white shine not this mess all congealed with slime!
To flush, pull on the twine. Why don't you jerk it, you spaz?
Cuz hey, I spy all your bacon and eggs from breakfast you had.
Whiffs of gross methane gas. I'll need my gloves for this task.
Oh bother, here I go up to my coverless cask.
You consumed a cow, it's that abnormally large mass.
Man, it reeks so horrifically. Sulfur gases.
A jungle of growth in my bathroom here attacks!
Gungy, it pours to the floors it oozes. Vac pack.
Got twenty two tentacles, grew some tails and a black hat.
All from your rear, hideous manure odour, that's wack.
Must have split your ass-crack, what a crass act.
Grab a fan, man. Where's my gas mask at?
Awful pong. Awful reek. Crap is leaking upon us.
A rising tide floods enough muck to sprout reeds.
What'd you eat? Help me now. Get the soap, extra strength,
Stomach squeeze... Man, I can't bare this long.
All this waste and this muck. It's a mire, it's a bog.
Now I'm fighting for air, I'm running from the sight.
Clean the sludge, need a pump, for this much gooey gunk.
Wish you'd flush down your lunch after diarrhoea calls.
Gloves on!
Walls are dripping with slop. Up the sides it all dribbles.
Scrub forever, get this scum off here for shizzle.
Your crap has gradually filled up, a flush you did lack.
Now there's a sea of faeces, a heap of gunk like a Big Mac.
It's spattered all over the bath lattice, sink lathered with garbage.
The smell is rank like a maimed corpse, it's badder than cabbage.
Spit and sheen, get it clean, man. A splattered vendetta.
I'll faint from the slop, that great mass, the pong gets rancider.
It's hell, can't cope with this air. Your callous crap will not go.
Evil as the devil, appraisal is: horrifying foe.
Swamp. Mush. Muck. Smoosh. Just flush next time you're making a poop dome.
Gloves on us!
Awful pong. Awful reek. Crap is leaking upon us.
A rising tide floods enough muck to sprout reeds.
What'd you eat? Help me now. Get the soap, extra strength,
Stomach squeeze... Man, I can't bare this long.
All this waste and this muck. It's a mire, it's a bog.
Now I'm fighting for air, I'm running from the sight.
Clean the sludge, need a pump, for this much gooey gunk.
Wish you'd flush down your lunch after diarrhoea calls.
Gloves on!
This tragedy's awful, it's painful to watch it.
Slush pit inside my Water Closet.
Someone's trying to smell out the house, flavour is obnoxious.
Hate these unstomachable curry nachos!
I cower because it's so sour.
This is damn rotten, look at it all slopping!
How could you expel something like this with a rump that aint split now?
It's redefining 'foul'.
Let me get some boys... and some men... from Detroit.
Then we'll empty out this pile with our pumps and mining toys.
Buy some gelignite and wire it to help our plight with sticks.
Clean with our mops get all sloppy in this vile ditch.
Maybe be can flush the ordure to cesspits.
It's quite evident men will all die in the process.
Crap stream is a lake, a dirty river.
Quivering like a cold sore, breathing, a pulse thudding away.
So much sludge in coils, this slop is gross splatter to wipe out like French royals.
No more biological waste here. It's sick as Japs drinking their whale oil.
If you don't flush your dunny that crap will rise up like Nero.
Look at the size of the flies that start colonising the pipes.
Flush now and wipe up this place with a damn mace.
Flush down this pile, or die with stifled fright.
You know why, flush-wise, I am uptight.
Awful pong. Awful reek. Crap is leaking upon us.
A rising tide floods enough muck to sprout reeds.
What'd you eat? Help me now. Get the soap, extra strength,
Stomach squeeze... Man, I can't bare this long.
All this waste and this muck. It's a mire, it's a bog.
Now I'm fighting for air, I'm running from the sight.
Clean the sludge, need a pump, for this much gooey gunk.
Wish you'd flush down your lunch after diarrhoea calls.
Gloves on!
And so if I tell thee to flush once you've cleansed your bum,
Then please don't just pay no attention or you'll make us gag and suffer.
As you sit astride that cistern seat, your butt rumbling and stuff running.
You discard your crapping of ass ejection.
That we all smell. Sour fragrance, fervent flavour.
Please flush down the sewer all your fresh emanation which reeks. Gassed the bird!
Flush the evidence. Flush the remnants.
And please wipe rear ends...
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Voting Results
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Pacing: | 3.6 | |
How Funny: | 3.7 | |
Overall Rating: | 3.8 | |
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Total Votes: | 11 |
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