I thought about this long and hard
In fact I thought about it all the time
What would happen to belly button lint
If you set the stuff on fire

I collected more than enough
Over the years to see this through
So I went and invited a few friends along
The word it spread and the crowd it grew

All the folk from the town came out
They'd been collecting belly button lint just like I had
Not quite as impressive a pile as mine
I guess I'm the biggest belly button lint dust collecting man
That's (B.B.B.L.D.C.M.) if you want to simplify who it is I am

You might think that's something to be proud of
And believe me when I say that I am
After I got through signing autographs
We proceeded with my grand plan

The crowd stepped up one by one
To toss their lint onto the pile
Coming close to blocking out the moon
As the pile grew ever higher

(Finally the time had come to light up
the famed belly button lint dust fire)

It was Frankie who spoke up first
And said he'd be honored to flick his bic
That was the very last time we saw any of him
Frankie and the lint lit up like a rocket ship

When the shock wore off I turned around
And saw the whole town up in flames
I've had a lot of great ideas before
I'm not quite sure this was one of them

I now live in a hippie commune in the woods
Since my towns no longer there
It's kind of lonely without Frankie around
Although there's still that lingering hint of burning hair

I no longer collect belly button lint these days
I sure learned my lesson with that
Haven't worked out the details of my next grand idea
But I can tell you it involves a big ball of my ear wax

Have you ever stopped to wonder
Where pocket lint comes from
Is it mass produced, does it just run loose
Or is it grown on a pocket lint farm

And are there tiny little farmers
With tiny little hoes
Who's time is spent planting pocket seed lint
In tiny little rows

Is that why so many pockets
Are lined in cloth of white
For the best in growing conditions
Letting in the perfect amount of light

But then you have to wonder
What the farmers do for rain
And if your always wet in the front of your pants
What would people have to say

And why go through all the trouble
Since apparently it has no use
Unless we hire tiny little tailors
In the making of pocket lint Leisure Suits

And if we do I'd like mine in baby blue
To wear at all the Bar Mitzvahs, Proms, and Wakes
I'm sure that once it catches on
It'll be the latest craze

There really must be some sort of purpose
In pocket lints grand design
Don't you ever wonder where it comes from
I myself think about it all the time