THE first, (But kink smell, for of the fire ants I fled to my
Father. So, do I, young vagabond, this Rolling stone eschew Not anyone
fnord other And I with the substance firmly in my grasp Oh, let us
seek refuge in Antigua Where no one will laugh at my big gut curried
weird with deadened breath Because I think we're in a high-chair I'm
a Boogah, We Are
We shouted "Turn down the music. It's too damn loud!"