Spittle, bouche goop,
There’s a whole lot I got.
Spittle, bouche goop,
There’s a whole lot I’ve wrought.

Well, I ain’t gaggin’, babe, it’s gross, but I’ve found
That I must extract it or I’m feelin’ bound.
When something comes up in me: eau de “let it fly.”
It is really wet, a spring that will never run dry.

Stream of spittle, bouche goop, out it flows much like snot

Ugly spittle, louche goop from my fat head spills.
When I hawk up, hon, no burp—don’t be standin’ still!
I’ve snorted and you’ve grieved when I’ve croaked and snored—
I’ll do a hundred and forty decibels, good lord!

But there’s spittle, louche goop, out it flows much like snot.

I’ve got a concentration: muck that ain’t stored where I snore
First there’s slurpin, then spittin’. . .trill, my trach. pipes roar.
As if that weren’t enough, I’m gonna spritz your lid;
There’s one more fling I got: a big pick—nasty!

It comes in a straight line; it’s a lightish green
And I’m blowin’ out outré water like you never seen.
As it’s gushed out, your nape is like bathed in beer
When my gums rumble, don’t stall—get clear!

Stream of spittle, louche goop, out it flows much like snot,
Steamed by spittle goop looped on your nose, you get hot,
Beat my spittlin’ bouche—tooth, out it blows. . .had some rot.