Is there anything left, Maybe steak and eggs
Waking up to throwing up
Filling up your bed
Chunky days, the things I ate, Could use a better taste
It's enough to make you puke, Right in a nice warm bath
Inspiration for expurgation
Of our chewed up crap
I know spew, and you know me, It's looks like eaten crap

And we were oh oh, so you know
Not the kind to swallow
Will the things we ate today
Taste as good tomorrow
We will still be wharfing
In approaching years
Blowing chunks on Sundays
As our viddles reappeared

We could lose our lunch if we'd half a mind
But don't disturb us if you hear us retching
To expurgate the structure of another lunch or two
Cause wharfing's coming up
And I like rice enough, to see it spew