Red Wave Radio

"Eau de Feces", by Anon

Roger, Roger, Roger Wiseman
all the ladies say, "Thats a small size, man!"

His feeble brain is taxed beyond compare
to merely sit, sh*t, or stare.

He has a stupid or rude comeback for everything,
when all the while he's actually just masturbating.

"Clever!", he rates himself to be,
"Moronic...,", others say, "he's not worth his own pee."

He pollutes the newsgroups with language vile,
In reality, he's just sitting in his own "pile".

He lives in a small town where the police cruise,
No one is willing to stay...afraid their*** he will bruise.

He won't bathe until it's been at least a week,
as he spends his time behind the curtain to peek.

It has been said that his head has a slope,
it has also been said that any remedy is no hope.

So this is the end I bid you adieu,
Oh look, here comes Roger, I thought I smelled poo!

"It didn't say WHY I had to retest!"

Nothing more, nothing less. It is written. :)

-= kc8GAYbo/GaYb8mq =-

Quote:

> "Eau de Feces", by Anon

NIGHT QUEEFER
(Gibb/AB8MQ)

Listen to the sound:
there is a bowel movement all around.
Geno has something goin' down
and everybody can smell it.

On the waves of the air,
Geno's shitty underwear.
If you have a credit card beware,
he can steal it.

And Geno's a prison woman,
he moves through the light,
hoping the K-Y shipment came in.
When he tried for a new identity
yeah, Geno's not very bright,

then Geno became a night queefer, night queefer.
Geno knows how to blow it.
Geno's a night queefer, night queefer.
He knows how to blow it.

Here Geno is,
prayin' for his reaming to last,
livin' on the music so fine,
borne on breaking wind,
tastin' it like wine.

Night queefer, night queefer.
Geno knows how to blow it.
Geno's a night queefer, night queefer.
He knows how to blow it.

In the heat of Bubba's love,
Geno don't need no help for him to make it.
Gimme just enough to take us to the mornin'.
Geno whines with black choad in his ass.
He got higher in his ass***in'.
And he's glowin' in the dark;
I give you warnin'.

And Geno's a prison woman,
he moves through the cell-light,
hoping the K-Y shipment came in.
When he tried for a new identity
yeah, Geno's not very bright,

Night queefer, night queefer.
Geno knows how to blow it.
Geno's a night queefer, night queefer.
He knows how to blow it.

Here Geno is,
prayin' for his reaming to last,
livin' on the music so fine,
borne on breaking wind,
tastin' it like wine.

Night queefer, night queefer.
Geno knows how to blow it.
Geno's a night queefer, night queefer.
He knows how to blow it.