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There was an old lady who lived on Lick Street
Her passage was blocked up from too much to eat
She took stomach pills without reading the box
Before she could strip, turds were flying like rocks.
A rolling stone gathers no moss, so they say
Sing along, with the birds
It's a wonderful song but it's all about turds.
She ran to the window, stuck out her ass
Just at that moment a cowhand did pass
He heard the strange noise, so he gazed up on high
A mighty big turd hit him right in the eye.
Oh he ran to the east and the west
When a further consignment arrived on his chest
He fled to the north and he fled to the south
When a bloody big turd hit him right in the mouth.
The next time you walk over Flatriver Bridge
Look out for a cowhand asleep on the ridge
His chest bears a placard, whereon are these words:
"Be kind to a cowboy who's blinded by turds."
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