(For the background and inspiration for this song, click here)
(The Sewage Song)
(With apologies to Marty Robbins)
Out in the west Texas town of El Paso
If you get thirsty, you’ll get a surprise
Water from sewage is treated then served there
What comes out later you’ll not recognize
Climate change drought makes this task necessary
“But it’s fake news” Mr. Trump still contends
I’d love to see him consume this fake water
Then we could watch it spew out from both ends
I must stay close to the lavatory
Clenching my cheeks as I run…
I sit my butt down and ease off the clampdown
The pressure relieves but I’ve gassed everyone.
So I reach for the big roll of TP that should be a-hangin’
To my chagrin there are just three squares left
I do my business the best that I’m able
It’s not enough and I’m feeling bereft.
Just for a moment I stood there in silence
Shocked by the foul, evil stench in the stall
I yanked my pants up and zipped up the zipper
And shot out of there like a big cannonball.
I started cursing this West Texas town
Who made this terrible plan?
The pressure’s increasing, my insides are greasing
It’s like I’m living in rural Sudan.
Just as fast as I could I turned back to that old lavatory
Back through that gross noxious cloud of disgust.
Back on the toilet I sit there just pushing
Grunting and groaning but still it goes on
It’s been so long since I’ve been in this bathroom
I swear they could smell it in Saskatchewan
I finish up and by hind end I clean
It’s a literal pain in my ass
With each wipe of TP I scream like a banshee
It feels like I’m wiping across broken glass
And at last here’s the last of the clean up
I’m finally finished
I flush and I reach for my trousers below
I pull my jeans up and buckle my belt up
Out of this stall to the fresh air I go.
Four or five steps
Was the farthest I traveled
But the bubble starts forming deep down below
Clamping and clenching I do a 180
My intestines are cursed with a turbulent flow
Something is dreadfully wrong for I feel
My sphincter about to release
I might not make it, though I can’t take it
Please lock me up for disturbing the peace
But I fin-ally reach the bathroom door
And push back inside there
All of the stalls seem to be occupied
Hopping from one foot then back to the other
I don’t care if I look undignified
I feel my insides beginning to rumble
Just then a door opens and I take heart
Back on the toilet I’m able to release
One little pop, but this one’s just a fart.