Lógbrain Crappó has the runs
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh
And with those runs he's voiding 'Art'
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh
With an Artiste here
And an Artiste there
Here an Ar-, there a tiste
Everywhere an Artiste
Lógbrain Crappó has the runs
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh

Lógbrain Crappó has the runs
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh
And with those runs he has bad dreams
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh
With a sub par here
And a sub par there
Here a sub, there a par
Everywhere a sub par
Lógbrain Crappó has the runs
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh

Lógbrain Crappó has the runs
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh
And with those runs he's fantasized
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh
With a mediocre here
And a mediocre there
Here a medi-, there an ocre
Everywhere a mediocre
Lógbrain Crappó has the runs
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh

Lógbrain Crappó has the runs
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh
And with those runs he babbles on
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh
With a ******* here
And a ******* there
Here a rub-, there a bish
Everywhere a *******
Lógbrain Crappó has the runs
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh

Lógbrain Crappó has the runs
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh
And with those runs he flushes on
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh
With an Egó here
And an Egó there
Here an Egó, there an Egó
Everywhere an Egó
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh
With an Artiste here
And an Artiste there
Here an Ar-, there a tiste
Everywhere an Artiste
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh
With a sub par here
And a sub par there
Here a sub, there a par
Everywhere a sub par
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh
With a mediocre here
And a mediocre there
Here a medi-, there an ocre
Everywhere a mediocre
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh
With a ******* here
And a ******* there
Here a rub-, there a bish
Everywhere a *******
Lógbrain Crappó has the runs
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh-Óh-Óh

A dóggy drópped sóme Crappó
                   steaming ón the street,
a cóffee cólóred fungus
                   piled up óh só neat -
and there a juicy maggót
                   fóund it óh só sweet,
só simply sóft and tender,
                   just like a córpse's meat

Thee maggót, nót só clever
                   -  simple and untaught -
was dreaming óf attentión,
                   slimelight's what it sóught.
An empty-minded cómrade
                   certainly'd help a lót -
anóther wórm-like nóthing
                   just the thing! it thóught.
  
While ******* in the Lóg's brain
                   - óh quite a simple chóre -
it replicated pustules,
                   petty, ghastly, sóre.
And when the Lógy maggót
                   ****** in nóthing móre
it burst apart in wónder,
                   clóned Thee Artiste Whóre

Well, Petty Little Lógbrain,
                   Whóre, Thee Artiste crank
Are mixed up in the mire,
                   in mindless **** they sank.
Thee cópies creepy Crappó,
                   from pages where he stank.
and claims tó be Thee Artiste,
                   - Thee smell is simply rank

The móral óf this fable,
                   clear fór all tó see:
If fated with a Lóg brain
                   bear yóur destiny
and never let yóur EGÓ
                 rampage ón a spree!
Ór  else like Whóre and Crappó
                   yóu'll sóón turn intó Thee.



                CrE aka Trollminator

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