Pissin' in the river's an appalling trait,
Yellowing what once was cool to drink.
It sullies H2O and makes housewives irate,
Leaving a ring around the sink.

I know that I'm a churl and lout; to spout's outré.
I am looking in this park
For a loo; but I'm louche--I let loose and say,
"I've just hit a high-water mark."

Drain pee legally? No men's room there.
I really must go, so my spray arcs through the air.
My DNA's rushing, killin' carp, to bay far away.

I know that I'm a churl and lout; I'm like a stray
Dog that barks, dousing tree bark.
We go al fresco, although we differ this way:
I do not territory-mark.

Draining my purge urge when I have to go,
Paining the perch I besmirch with the flow,
Staining my shirt when I lurch; I'm immersed head to toe.

Pissing on one's liv'ry's an appalling trait,
Yellowing the duds; it makes 'em shrink.
It sullies spotless clothes, so when you micturate,
Is your footing sure as you think?

Listen to the drippin' as you urinate:
Pitter patter, pitter patter.
Get a grip or you'll drip on your pate:
Pitter patter. Bitter patter. . .

[fade on a string of expletives]