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(G. Elgar) Through garbage dumps He sought his game The things thrown out Were the things he gained Back alley waste And dirt from litter He collected it all And he ate it For dinner... dinner... dinner... Hooked on junk Hooked on junk Hooked on junk.. junk...junk...junk... junk Sally looked in disgust How could a man write such stuff What about real life What about the way things really are What a gross person she was Sally threw her head back She began to up...up... Upheave violently Her guts tore from the sickening chore Detecting something foul She cried out for more bowel More bowel she cried More bowel! She found her head Lying in a bowl of toilet collectibles.... Collectibles.... Collectibles... I could see she was sick So I called her lawyer and ordered some Hooked on junk Hooked on junk Hooked on junk.. junk...junk...junk... junk. |
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