How many hard boiled eggs you down?
How about some fiberous bran?
My eyes stingin' so, I'm considering braille,
Hurry, proceed to the can.
Yes, you bring down the buzzards, they fall from the sky,
Bury your butt in the sand.
It's rancid my friend, this breakin' of the wind,
So rancid your breakin' of the wind.

What kind of gas does your can cook up,
That can make an onion cry?
Yes, and how many gears must one can have,
To shift so much gas to the sky?
Yes, and how many breaths can I take through my nose,
Before I can't see out my eyes?
It's rancid my friend, this breakin' of the wind,
So rancid your breakin' of the wind.

How long can your rancid gas binge persist,
Why won't you please hear our plea?
Yes, and we're growing weak so just cease and desist,
Some Beano would all set us free,
Yes, and we all agree you should go to the head,
Please to save our olfactory.
It's rancid my friend, this breakin' of the wind,
So rancid your breakin' of the wind.