I ain't gonna work to gag these farts no more,
No, I ain't gonna hurt to gag these farts no more.
Well, I quake in the morning,
Hold 'em back and pay with pain.
I've just gotta vent my rear,
Let it blow like a gas main.
Stay the flames! I break wind with a mighty roar.
I ain't gonna work to gag my farts no more.

I ain't gonna work to gag or smother no more,
No, I ain't gonna work to gag or smother no more.
Smells like a rancid pickle
Deprived of its brine.
Your teeth you'll have to grit
As it wafts into your rhin.
You opine: "Smells like slime floating on a moor!"
I ain't gonna work to gag or smother no more.

I ain't gonna work to gag oompahs no more,
No, I ain't gonna work to gag oompahs no more.
Smells like a soggy cigar
That with mucous has been mixed.
Each time this wind blows,
Air filters must be fixed.
Mere flatulence--mards don't land on the floor.
I ain't gonna work to gag oompahs no more.

I ain't gonna work, gag aromas no more,
No, I ain't gonna work, gag aromas no more.
When I "squawk," you give me sermons
About gas from cod and slaw,
From your body's place
Where drains what went in maw.
"It's stinky, mate! Whatcha do that venting for?!"
I ain't gonna work, gag aromas no more.

I ain't gonna work to gag these farts no more,
No, I ain't gonna hurt to gag these farts no more.
Well, high in my chest
Is where is stuck, some ham,
Which drops to digestive juice
Where baked beans boost the BAM!
It singes the drapes, and my butt gets sore.
Still, ain't gonna work to gag these farts no more.