Putrid, that rancid roe.
It's best that it should go
Straight to the garage cart,
Smelly, raunchy.

Putrid--I tear and cry;
It smells like a hog sty.
Straight to the garage cart,
Quickly.

That a-roe-ma could smother you,
Cause nasal distress,
Derange your equilibrium.
Bouquet's nastiness.
Those degutted-sturgeon pearls
Stink once you evis-
cerate the big fish.

So putrid, that rancid roe.
Wretched; to retch I go
Straight to the taco cart;
You see, it's relatively
Putrid compared to high
Cuisine, but I'd dare try
Fate with some unnamed parts. You sea. . .

Though putrid are the tacos
That they're servin' to me,
I'd rather down a dozen--even salinity
Can't mask the nasty, ghastly wafting
Roe; nose can feel.
Smells much worse than eel

Though putrid is that taco,
I'll take 'co over roe.
Straight to the luncheon cart for me,
No huevos for me.

Putrid is that pre-fry
Egg mass. . .stinks to the sky,
Makes, euw! a chunder start for me.

It's putrid--get none near me,
Galling goo, don't need it,
Putrid, smelly.