Pt 1.
These thighs I really hate
See, they have far too much weight
They wobble too much, they're not at all tight
They're not as small as I would have liked

I'm the midriff, and I'm much better
Skinny and toned and shapely
From ***** to hip,
I do look fit!
Them thighs got nothing on me.

Yet what better way to move about
To run and dance to 'twist and shout'
Without them I'd surely lose
Without them I could not move!

Now I ought to see this more clearly
For a long sickness has beset me
And I have been the weakest link
Im holding you back - don't you think?

Pt 2.
Oh stomach you're a constant pain
Though I know you're not truly to blame
But, at its very worst,
I, thighs, have been cursed
I cannot do my duty

Now ruled by your various aches
Oh tummy! - Just let me run for Christ sakes
Such a simple thing to miss
Deprived by your fetid sickness

I'm just trying not to let you stop me
From enjoying life as I ought to be
And I know that we all suffer
From some something
At some time or other

You turn food to energy for me
I can't do anything quite so tricky!
You see each and every part takes its toll:
And each and every part makes up this whole.