Just cos the book is out, we ain’t stoppin’.
Check it now, our fecal is still a-ploppin’.
CANNOT STOP. WILL NOT STOP.
Pen nuggets of lore till we drop.
Gotta keep eatin’, haveta keep shittin’.
Writing pooems about it only seems fittin’.
Poopin’ is the way of all living things.
Consume to live, then let the anus sing.
And the song you hear are rhymes of brown.
With a stinky fart, a trumpeting sound.
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