Asked a churl what he wanted to be.
He said, “Crazy, you ask me?
I wanna kiss anus, the dark that ain’t seen—
Got my glossregalia in between.

“When can I say, ‘I’m a czar?’
Stretched it up there pretty far.
Hey, I want to be a czar—
Each day I will lunch you.”

I told that churl that his prod rect’s were good,
But at some point, you must unguent wood—
Work on the penis and balls—you’ll be fine,
And when you blow reach below the spine.

Taste it and you’ll be a czar,
Fress but do not teethe that spar,
Baste it and you’ll be a czar
And bathe in the love slough.

Veep, veep, veep, veep, yeah!

I told that churl, it’s a part that you’ll play
When you’re through lippin’, hey,
And that yum sphinct’s rosé,
You’ll be a czar after laving the dart. . .
Butt time, browning swiver: implant THAT part.

Hey, now you’ll cry, “I’m a czar!”
Yesmanism takes you far.
Hey, now you’ve the title “czar,”
What is it that you do?

Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep, yeah,
Eat, eat, eat, eat, yeah,
Deep, deep, deep, deep, yeah. . . .