The fly-man takes leisurely lunches Where garbage he eats in great in bunches Then home to the Mrs. and he hopes for her kisses... What he gets is the press and some crunches
The guy's in a bit of a bind A fly has a grip on his mind His thoughts, though they're fleeting, are on crap he'll be eating That's why he has axes to grind
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The fly-man takes leisurely lunches
Where garbage he eats in great in bunches
Then home to the Mrs.
and he hopes for her kisses...
What he gets is the press and some crunches
The guy's in a bit of a bind
A fly has a grip on his mind
His thoughts, though they're fleeting,
are on crap he'll be eating
That's why he has axes to grind
As a man he likes gourmet cuisine
But as insect his tastes are unclean
The ex-epicure
Seeks the small of manure
As the onlooker, queasy, turns green.
"Small"?? "Smell!"
In matters of diet and taste
his appetite's highly debased
His thrice daily courses
are likely from sources
that gastronomes find are a waste
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