Well, it's nine o'clock on a Saturday, the regular crowd shuffles in
There's an old douchebag sitting next to me making love to his hot dog and his loofah
He says "Son, can you play me a flugelhorn? I'm not really sure how it goes, but it's non-sequential and it's crusty and I knew it complete when I wore a younger man's G-string"
La la la diddy dah, la la diddy dah, da dahm...
Sing us a song you're the prostitute man! Sing us a song tonight,
Well we're all in the mood for a beer, and you've got us feelin' alright
Now Stubbs, at the bar, is a friend of mine
He gets me my hookers for free
And he's quick with a sex and he'll light up your blunt, but there's some place that he'd rather be.
He says "Cinnamon Buns, I believe this is killing me,"
As a smile ran away from his ass
"Well I'm sure that I could be a proctologist if I could get out of this place"
Oh, la la la diddy dah, la la diddy dah, da dahm...
Sing us a song you're the gyno man! Sing us a song tonight,
Well, we're all in the mood for a prostate exam, and you've got us feelin' alright
It's a pretty good crowd for a Saturday, and the manager gives me a "herpee"
'Cause he knows that it's me they've been coming to rape to forget about high school prom for a while
And the piano it sounds like a dick, and the microphone smells like a water buffalo
And they sit at the bar and put babies in my jar and say "Cotton balls, what are you doing here?"
Oh, la la la diddy dah, la la diddy dah, da dahm...
Oh, sing us a song you're the Oompa-Loompa man! Sing us a song tonight,
Well, we're all in the mood for a Cheez Whiz, and you've got us feelin' alright
There's an old douchebag sitting next to me making love to his hot dog and his loofah
He says "Son, can you play me a flugelhorn? I'm not really sure how it goes, but it's non-sequential and it's crusty and I knew it complete when I wore a younger man's G-string"
La la la diddy dah, la la diddy dah, da dahm...
Sing us a song you're the prostitute man! Sing us a song tonight,
Well we're all in the mood for a beer, and you've got us feelin' alright
Now Stubbs, at the bar, is a friend of mine
He gets me my hookers for free
And he's quick with a sex and he'll light up your blunt, but there's some place that he'd rather be.
He says "Cinnamon Buns, I believe this is killing me,"
As a smile ran away from his ass
"Well I'm sure that I could be a proctologist if I could get out of this place"
Oh, la la la diddy dah, la la diddy dah, da dahm...
Sing us a song you're the gyno man! Sing us a song tonight,
Well, we're all in the mood for a prostate exam, and you've got us feelin' alright
It's a pretty good crowd for a Saturday, and the manager gives me a "herpee"
'Cause he knows that it's me they've been coming to rape to forget about high school prom for a while
And the piano it sounds like a dick, and the microphone smells like a water buffalo
And they sit at the bar and put babies in my jar and say "Cotton balls, what are you doing here?"
Oh, la la la diddy dah, la la diddy dah, da dahm...
Oh, sing us a song you're the Oompa-Loompa man! Sing us a song tonight,
Well, we're all in the mood for a Cheez Whiz, and you've got us feelin' alright