When you're full and bloated
And you feel your gut expand
and something... whoa! something has grown inside
Stop the shize and stink for me
Your buns can spare the air
And brighten up, even your whitest whites (yeah right)

Find a stall, vent the fumes
And please hold off tooting your tune
Don't go stinkin', Oh please will ya?
Spare me the stench
Tuna fish, onions and malts
Do the diarrhea waltz
As you leak air, uuurrrhh, urrhhh, urrhh,
You're breakin' wind

If the lunch inside you
Should turn bad with fowl results (what's up chicken butt?)
And that old south wind should intend to blow
Clench your sphincter tightly and cork that crass impulse now!
And don't you go staining your cotton drawers

Hey, I don't smell a rose when you're breakin' wind
Stomachs can be balloons
They'll sate you, and inflate you
Well they'll toot a tune if you rip one
Oh well, now don't you rip one!

Hershey squirts, call for change
And I know they're hard to contain
It's uncertain, what farting will rend
Onion rings, sushi "the works"
Waking up the folks at church
Oh you need prayer, yes you do
You're breakin' wind
You're breakin' wind
I don't smell a rose when you're breakin' wind
I don't smell a rose when you're breakin' wind
You're breakin' wind