This bottom breeze it makes me sneeze
A pungent gaseous blast.
Who woulda thunk this little punk
Could clear a room so fast.
Now mommy knows from twisted nose
Just what it really means.
To fill her boy, this little toy,
At lunchtime with baked beans.
This little fart tugs on my heart
While puttering in the fog.
If daddy had a gas this bad,
He’d surely blame the dog
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