When the wind smashes small trees into walls,
and the hail crushes pasture into bog,
no being profits, except the one that bawls
“I hunt for truffles, human, and eat balls
as the storm passes, and ram lies dead as log,
when the wind smashes small trees into walls.
“I am much wiser than the man who stalls,
collapses, and is consumed by the dog.”
No being profits, except the one that bawls
“I know you hate it when wild boar crawls
towards me to ravage without a snog,
when the wind smashes small trees into walls
and thunder makes girls piss into their smalls;
the thought of which makes you fart a huge smog.”
No being profits, except the one that bawls
the last coherent statement that appalls
all listeners, except the happy hog.
No being profits, except the one that bawls
when the wind smashes small trees into wall.
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