Your hygiene is scarily neat,
You're so prim--no crumb ignored.
You ain't satisfied just to sweep
Clean as a hospital floor.

I get ready,
I get ready to sit,
But you yank me off the edge of the seat,
I tell you, "No way that you'll make this
Antiseptically sweet."

SWEET, SWEET, SWEET

There's numberless mites in dust

SWEEP, SWEEP, SWEEP

There's numberless mites in dust,
And another one on, and another one on
Subatomic mote of dust.
You'll never get the whole crew,
There's numberless mites in dust.

How do you think you're gonna get them all?
They never will be gone.
Yeah, you could set off a nuclear blast
And they'd still be in your home.

You're not happy unless nattified,
You're even dusting your teats,
But when I ask you to dust my tip,
You tell me to go beat.

BEAT, BEAT, BEAT

You mutter: "Go fight your lust."

PETE, PETE, PETE

I'm cuppin' my pike for lust.
There's another one on, and another one on--
Thumb and fingers like a truss.
Sometimes love isn't for two,
There's numberless types of lust.

SUITE, SUITE, SUITE

There's numberless mites in dust,
There's numberless types of lust,
"Concupiscence" defines lust,
My nutters are primed to bust,
My plunger is rimed with crust,
Forerunner of wine is must,
Punishment for crime is just,
A lunch is fine to degust,
A putter in time will rust,
Roof gutters are lined with rust,
Some nuns in my time I've bussed,
I muttered one time and cussed,
A funnel cloud drives a gust,
Runnin' out of rhymes for "dust."

There are plenty of ways to curtail dirt on
A rug that lies flat down.
You can beat it,
You can sweep it,
You can treat it with anti-stain
By the pound.

But I'm ready to tread on your brand-new
Carpet with my dung-booted feet.
Onto the floorway dried dogshit drips;
You scream like a demon in heat.

HEAT, HEAT, HEAT

There tumbles to rug, shite crust.

SWEEP, SWEEP, SWEEP

There tumbles to rug, shite crust.
There's another drop on
And another, doggone!
You grumble with spite and cuss.
Mixed with desiccated doo
Are numberless mites in dust.