non-fiction rock from Aotearoa New Zealand

Speaking in Dungs

Pull your trousers up, your nARSEcisim’s showing!

Your third eye is a brown eye
Your temple’s portaloo
Lets hear your spirits talking
I hear they speak in dungs 
Opinions are like arseholes
reckons rhymes with rectums
You just see connections
I see the full of your moon

Some ideas golden, some ideas are green
This idea presenting here, comes straight to you from dreams
But of all ideas and options, line ‘em up in rank
For the swiftest of attention, go shit your pants

I, took a shit in my pants
You, took a shit in your pants
They, took a shit in their pants
We, we, we, take a shit in our pants

Some throw toys, or hissy fits, or fingers full of shit
But as they saying plainly goes, if the nappy fits
If you’ve lost attention, feel abandoned, you know you want it back
Grab a hand and take command, and go and fling your scat

So less than juvenile but time and tested true
There’s a little cleaver trick that rhymes with you
If you like your message loud, brown and sticky thick
Call Crap the fecal postman, who hand delivers shit

It’s politicians, opinion pieces
Comment sections full of feces
The tik-tok, meta, Twitter species
The social media ablution theses
Whinging grown ups wringing wrists
Those billionaires throw hissy fits
Mate, forget the beaches, fill your trousers
Man shit your pants, your super powers

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