Hello, hello, hello,
Is there any football in there?
Just bodies doing Rugby
In there, pushing on my "bum"

Come on, plow
I fear you're seeing brown,
I foresee the stain
And get "doo" on my feet again.

Egads, egads, egads,
I see something horrid, it's worse,
Just a great big stack,
Can I go into reverse?

There is more strain, you are competing,
A smelly chip pokes out and is risin',
It is only wafting up in waves,
The chip moves as it is near where I'm playin'
Then I was defiled, smellin' like beaver,
My landing onto "doo" sand dunes,
Now I am just reeling and in stain,
I can't disdain, I push against my man,
This is just how I am,
I have begun some turd-ugly scrum.

Guitar solo

OK, OK, OK,
Just a little skin nick,
They'll be no more, aaaaaah
But I now feel it really thick,
Can you stand it? Stand it? Stand it?
I do believe it's stinking, oooh!
That'll keep me pushing for the goal,
Come on, it's time to go.

There is more strain, you are competing,
A smelly chip pokes out and is risin',
It is only wafting up in waves,
The chip moves as it is near where I'm playin'
Then I was reviled and fought those bleedin' simps,
Out on the field, I heard a cry,
I yearned to look 'cause he was done,
I canned his butt, he lingers on it now,
His rile has grown
His steam is drawn and
I have begun some turd-ugly scrum.

Guitar solo out