EAT your GARBANZO, or BEAT it you’re GONE-ZO!

[EAT your GARBANZO, or BEAT it you’re GONE-ZO!]

EAT your GARBANZO, or BEAT it you’re GONE-ZO!

[If you slack a bit I might smack a tit so add a jacket to the back of it and don’t practice it in my catchers mitt or call me in the morning.]

If you slack a bit I might smack a tit so add a jacket to the back of it and don’t practice it in my catchers mitt or call me in the morning.

[I harangue a song so dumb to go and bang a bongo drum, a little bit too hard like the taste of wilted rhubarb. I rustle my feathers in this brussel sprout weather. I guess it comes down to just muscle and leather.]

I harangue a song so dumb to go and bang a bongo drum, a little bit too hard like the taste of wilted rhubarb. I rustle my feathers in this brussel sprout weather. I guess it comes down to just muscle and leather.

[Bing! Bang! Boom! I got no more room. I’ve filled up on junk, the gunk sunk I assume.]

Bing! Bang! Boom! I got no more room. I’ve filled up on junk, the gunk sunk I assume.

[Converse with a person, a verse you’ve rehearsed. To curse the first and worse son, coerce him til he bursts!]

Converse with a person, a verse you’ve rehearsed. To curse the first and worse son, coerce him til he bursts!

[They call me “King Cool“ in the land where I pretend. They really call me nothing ‘cause I have no friends.]

They call me “King Cool“ in the land where I pretend. They really call me nothing ‘cause I have no friends.

[This is JUNGO’s hung bunch and the FUN BUNG-HOLE punch!]

This is JUNGO’s hung bunch and the FUN BUNG-HOLE punch!

[Take my shoe and throw it in a basket. Don’t sniff glue or you’ll end up in a casket.]

Take my shoe and throw it in a basket. Don’t sniff glue or you’ll end up in a casket.

[Swiveling Swahili in your mowed front lawn. Impaling impalas whence they hunt at dawn.]

Swiveling Swahili in your mowed front lawn. Impaling impalas whence they hunt at dawn.

[Bubbling bombardment to your left flank cheek. Quarreling quandaries of who spanked their meat.]

Bubbling bombardment to your left flank cheek. Quarreling quandaries of who spanked their meat.

[Oh my, I do say, this is masterfully written. I don't lie, the bootay will be naturally smitten.]

Oh my, I do say, this is masterfully written. I don't lie, the bootay will be naturally smitten.

[I got turkey up my ass I ain't one for bluffin Though thanksgivin passed This bun's for stuffing]

I got turkey up my ass

I ain't one for bluffin

Though thanksgivin passed

This bun's for stuffing

[“Have respect for the dildos, son. Wash it when the bilbo's done.“ “Okay Dad, I’ll clean after play, but those dildos are mine. I’m gay.“]

“Have respect for the dildos, son. Wash it when the bilbo's done.“ 

“Okay Dad, I’ll clean after play, but those dildos are mine. I’m gay.“

[I heard a foray in my foyer, over to play with a toy or, so I believed, but I was deceived. T'was only foreplay to a voyeur.]

I heard a foray in my foyer, over to play with a toy or, so I believed, but I was deceived. T'was only foreplay to a voyeur.

[Prep your buns and ready your eyes. Dads and sons and apples and pies. We scream “IT’S TIME!” we’ve made it at last. You’ll never forget LEAF IN ASS!]

Prep your buns and ready your eyes. Dads and sons and apples and pies. We scream “IT’S TIME!” we’ve made it at last. You’ll never forget LEAF IN ASS!

[A fortunate Scorpius forages, there's no shortages of porridges or Florida oranges. Of course there's no origins of fauna or flora sins but some orcas swim with limp dorsal fins.]

A fortunate Scorpius forages, there's no shortages of porridges or Florida oranges.

Of course there's no origins of fauna or flora sins but some orcas swim with limp dorsal fins.

[Take the whole fam gambling, go grab your kin. Mam's rambling "go max or min!" Damn, all the bramble and gin. BAM! All the bets are in. I'm clamoring.]

Take the whole fam gambling, go grab your kin. Mam's rambling "go max or min!" Damn, all the bramble and gin. BAM! All the bets are in. I'm clamoring.

[I got turkey up my ass I ain't one for bluffin Though thanksgivin passed This bun's for stuffing]

I got turkey up my ass

I ain't one for bluffin

Though thanksgivin passed

This bun's for stuffing

[That’s a Post and Lintel, Brick and Mortar shop selling Roasted Lentil (in a Mortar and Pestle) slop]

That’s a Post and Lintel, Brick and Mortar shop selling Roasted Lentil (in a Mortar and Pestle) slop

[Stuck in a log I made friends with rocks. I got a catalog of nothing but socks so I buy a new pair every brand-new day and I won't give a care to your mama's dismay.]

Stuck in a log I made friends with rocks. I got a catalog of nothing but socks so I buy a new pair every brand-new day and I won't give a care to your mama's dismay.

[Your salty fox won't get ya home with my faulty aux on saxophone. My trusty ox is on prednisone. If ya want the sauce we’ll throw the bone.]

Your salty fox won't get ya home with my faulty aux on saxophone. My trusty ox is on prednisone. If ya want the sauce we’ll throw the bone.

[Just like Mussolini, in a bowl of tortellini. It doesn't taste good unless you add some green zucchini.]

Just like Mussolini, in a bowl of tortellini. It doesn't taste good unless you add some green zucchini.

[I bought a large goat from a large goat forum. I would tote him home but I don't know where to store him. So I climbed the Great Highlands, where all the good goats play. I found a big ole fat one, and sang the livelong day.]

I bought a large goat from a large goat forum. I would tote him home but I don't know where to store him. So I climbed the Great Highlands, where all the good goats play. I found a big ole fat one, and sang the livelong day.

[Gather round smoke our thing hear the tale of Folklore Jim. A Hobo on a train in an overcoat with stains. In a flash I saw a rash accompanying his cane. Hard 2 just ignore em but wheres the blokes decorum. He calls himself da King but I didn't vote for em]

Gather round smoke our thing hear the tale of Folklore Jim. A Hobo on a train in an overcoat with stains. In a flash I saw a rash accompanying his cane. Hard 2 just ignore em but wheres the blokes decorum. He calls himself da King but I didn't vote for em

[I got turkey up my ass I ain't one for bluffin Though thanksgivin passed This bun's for stuffing]

I got turkey up my ass

I ain't one for bluffin

Though thanksgivin passed

This bun's for stuffing