I may not need air, but I know what I loathe
And that's makin' this stool go "creak"
I'm not a big fan of strain, your rear end sure gets me strainin'
Please take a hike
I mean lit'ral-like, go find a mountain trail
Decrease your big rear and the rest of your frame
Before you dare imbibe
This bar's cheap brand of plonk

That's not the only thing I
Have come to hate and despise
It's the type of person I am, you see
I sit through this hell that you don't know
It honestly blows

The butts this stool has seen, oh jeez
A new one ev'ry hour
Each one's a new pain
Wish I was free
To choose who sits down, I'm longin'
I long for shut doors

Hate when they let out air from the end that's down low
Because it engulfs me and I can't run and hide
I don't breathe air
But still it hurts

Then there's the people who hide
Things in their back pockets, why?
They poke into my small form quite sharply
Boy, do they raise hell if it's then broke
It's their fault, you know

The butts this stool has seen, oh jeez
Too many ev'ry hour
I really can't wait
Until (with ev'ry creak and strain and groan)
I need (and ev'ry stain that never goes)
To get replaced cause I'm busted (stool's dead, it's no more)
And none can sit on (oh-oh now)
Butts this stool has seen, oh jeez (well, not "seen", there's no eyes here, okay, ho-oh-oh)
I've got no face to glower
Why is this my fate (my smelly-ass fate)?
Hot tip (a little thing that you should know):
Don't sneeze (makes problems)
Into a witch's face, cause then (I did that and then)
She'll replant your soul