| There’s a punk I know who goes to shows
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| Covered in filth from his dreads to his toes
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| There’s a quality that follows him wherever he goes
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| How one could smell so fucking bad nobody knows
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| Society’s against his bodily smell
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| But he thinks society can go to hell
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| Even at shows he makes people upset
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| Just by standing around and emitting his scent
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| His life isn’t easy, things are getting worse
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| He just has to live with his foul-stench curse
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| But like a fine wine that improves with age
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| His sinister odor escapes from its cage
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| It’s now gotten so powerful, so sour and strong
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| Its effects are incredible, toxic and long
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| Inebriating those who can smell his smell
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| With a fantastic high that feels so swell
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| Suddenly he’s popular, with girls and men
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| Even got offered a job that pays almost ten
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| The life of the party, and everyone’s friend
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| Society’s grudge against him has come to an end
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| He’s now got some money, and freshly painted walls
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| All thanks to the fact he never washed his balls
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| So the moral of the story is don’t ever shower |