A proctor is looking in private compartments,
Must look up your hiney, relax please don't be tense.
He's gonna rock and roll up Hershey highway,
Heating up butts with a proctoscopic relay.
Pryin' a finger up in your cool arrow,
The sedative's hazy you scream in falsetto.

A jungle in your bung hole, seems that's what he sees.
Just a finger in a lubed glove,
And a long snake to clean the debris.

Is that a turd, there's a need of some fresh air,
Like jaws there in back hear the drill as it starts to bear.
You feel it tightening as probing goes through your sphincter,
Wishin' you'd given those 'roids a shrinker.
He knows you had tombstone cheeze pizza for dinner,
'Cause he's probin' way on inside of your inner.

A jungle in your bung hole, seems that's what he sees.
Just a finger in a lubed glove,
And a long snake to clean the debris.

Upriver he spots a block of bile nasties,
And soon you'll be shittin' and shakin' your ass.
Now you're feelin' the strife as he's mowin' the lawn,
And it burns like a gas jet the numbness is gone.
He lights up your bung hole,
You run out the room,
So junky a feeling, next time you'll eat prunes.

A jungle in your bung hole, seems that's what he sees.
Just a finger in a lubed glove,
And a long snake to clean the debris.