Oh I need relievin’; john's door got a sign,
Gotta find an outhouse, where the crescent moon don't shine.
Ported one seat quarters, mobile tinkle cup,
Willy wants the dew out, gotta go the pain is sharp.

John's out of order, closed down the suite,
Really gotta go boy, ain't playin',
Gotta piddle, gotta tweet.

Flusher spits a rush toward, there's pee pools in the aisle,
Stinky clumps of butt waste, so odorous the bile.
Oh Boy® tanks some gettin', for you go your dinky-doo,
Willy Mayket, Betty Doant, got troubles with the loo.

John's out of order; lift up your feet,
It's smellin' like manure boy decayin',
Backed up piddle to the street.

Down goes the plunger, out won't retreat,
Really quite a chore boy, it's stayin',
Moves no trickle or excrete.

Just can't plunge down any, it just hangs around,
It started with a trickle, when it made a funny sound.
John's now out of order, no more crappy noise,
Pee pools formin' all around, both restrooms girls and boys.

Plunge down that tuber, down the excrete,
Really need to bore boy conveyin',
Hope the bit'll pass the sheet.

Rounds every corner, dumps out in street,
Slipp'ry be the floor boy, what's layin',
Watch the piddle, watch your feet.

Brown in the corner, stainin' the tile,
Filthy to the core boy, it's stainin'
Stinky piddle, stinky bile.