Ain’t cheese rind,
that please-you-not scent.
You'll really mind if you're behind
that please-you-not scent;
I ain’t denied it.
It swirls, vile,
that please-you-not scent.
Easy to track: Comes from the back,
please-you-not scent.
You can’t abide it.

Now it’s time—lemme be blunt,
lemme be blunt: It is butt-spawned,
sickly, lemme be blunt: It is bum-spawned;
Ain’t Emily Blunt who laid the bomb….

I’m the one who’s farting
stench that’s ill.
It ain’t Emily who’s farting
stench that’s ill, makes you ill.

Wind blows
a please-you-not stench.
I’m purgin’, can’t keep it in,
that please-you-not stench.
You can’t abide it.

The “Eew”s flow
from please-you-not stench.
Air from aft makes you dash
and flee from the scent.
Away you’re flying

from the vile stench o’ the bum;
you can’t hang on.
So you exit, on the run.
You exit and run…
fetch a nose shunt
for what’s on the hunt:
sickly butt-spawned
stench o’ the rump.

From it you are parting:
stench that’s
aft-sent from my farting;
scent that’s
wafting from my farting.
Stench so ill,
out you get…had your fill!