I DON'T REMEMBER WHEN I WROTE THIS.
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Whoopah! I'm comin t'make a scene
You don't know what it means
But I'm bringin back the PoBoy.
 
Wokshee!! He's fightin for a sandwich
And screamin like a banshee
But my watch is a black dress and I'm a naked boy, naked boy. 

Look, I'm dressed up like a soup can;
Holy damn, Holy Man:
Eddie Murphy in a reverend's outfit. 

My shblip makes as much sense, like a James Joyce Novel,
But don't sit on the stick shift of a Rolls Royce Throttle.
My Buch auf Deutsch hat der Farbe grün,
Und Offspring said Uben Glaben Glauben Globen. 

Oh crap! I'm runnin out o' time,
& also any future good rhymes--
But all I need right now is for somebody,
Anybody, everybody: to get the fblip up!!! 

Show me what yo' got!
German's endin; class was fun,
And that's how the wild, wild west was won... 

The million dollars never existed,
Boys are in the drain,
Drowning in the meniscus of Hammer's shblippy fame. 

Choked on shards of chardonnay,
Bullhead is a brand, no fear in a bag o' wood,
Usedtocould, b't'I'm out.