How Our Faces Look When We Fart

A most deceiving mask A coiled contemplation A look of despair and woe The grimace of pain The coming of rain The stubbing of a toe My sweet love I am ready to confess to every sin The rumbling of the gut The raising of the butt The flatulence's raucous din But lo! This is not a measly prairie wind That passes lazily through the tall grass This is a grinning of the devil A demon's carefully constructed bevel A hell fire that rips from your ass! From what I thought was my own fault To cause you such a look Twas' a stalk of broccoli A sprout of Brussels A miscalculation by the cook So white knuckle my dear Hold tight for life As your intestines come trembling out Whatever you ate My succulent date Is making your butt shout But bless the heavens And all that is eternal That this has come to pass What I thought was the end The loss of my friend Was just a spot of gas.

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