There's P-C-Bees
And A-H-Cees
And a caustic soda mountain.
There's a benzene shower
'Bout every hour
At the Grand Effluent Fountain.


There's aldehydes
That'll burn your eyes
When the fountain starts a-pumpin'.
It'll fry your gills
With the caustic spills
Of years and years of dumpin'.


No need to sniff
To catch a whiff
The aroma is pervasive.
If you're like to cough
It'll set you off
It's guaranteed abrasive.


Condensate spume
Will sputter and fume
Hell, it's been reported glowin'.
Its special kick
Makes the Eastside sick
When the old west wind's a-blowin'.


It's known to choke
Air breathing folk
Of every rank and station.
It's a monument
To the judge-u-ment
Of a Highly Advanced Nation.


There's P-C-Bees
And A-H-Cees
And a caustic soda mountain
There's a benzene shower.
'Bout every hour
At the Grand Effluent Fountain.