What is that makes me soil my pants? Is it your mis-shapen breast implants? That have swallowed your hideous nipple. Or is it the fact your a mental cripple? No, 'tis not your dearth of brains, That is causing embarrasing stains, Nor indeed, does your crooked chest, Result in pristine panties messed. Your face can not be described as fine, But neither can my Calvin Klein, No 'tis not your ghastly pimpled face, That leads me to my pants debase. Alas,I must state, 'tis not you at all, That causes the grisly brown squall, The reason that my stomach's growls, Is my lack of control of my old tatty bow'ls!