(Ooo...
Ooo...
Uhn...
Uhnn...
Uhnnnnnn... Errgh!)

As I walked this hall with lumb’ring speed,
I was feeling a pressing need,
But now my gut’s a state of confusion;
Was this urge just an illusion?

Here I sit, and I’m brokenhearted:
I admit I only farted.
I feel I've got to pass
Some solids, not just gas,
Sometime…

Now I release a whooshing sound.
Nothing else has come a-tumbling down.
Now my rear end, it grows a little number
Like my bottom wants to slumber.
I hate remaining perched on this seat
Bored and alone, with nothing to read!
Groaning and growling, my intestines hum
For a movement that never may come.

Here I sit, and I’m brokenhearted
‘Cause my bits have not departed.
I feel I’ve got to grind
Waste out of my behind...
Helpless…

Still sitting on this throne of wood,
But if I wait, will it do me good?
I still feel like some lumps should be pending,
But they get nowhere near to my ending!

Now here I sit; I’m still brokenhearted:
Want to quit, but can't get started!
Something has got to give.
Where is my laxative?
I should eat some greens and beans,
Get some roughage in between.
I could wipe myself, but then
I’ll feel the urge to go again.
This is such a waste of time--
No business left behind!