I want to eat lots of little shoes.
Preferably chocolate, but maybe in stew.
I think I might eat a little die tonight
but just one, not so much eating though they're small dice.

I think I might blow up in my side
to get to just that lung, but not to the other side.
I think I might draw a picture, too.
Of my poo from last night.
His name was Uncle Stew.

He was not actually my uncle.
But all the same that's what I called this giant poo.
I thought I was just being polite.
Then I found that I was actually part poop.

That's what I have growing deep inside.
It's just poo. Poo, poo, poo. Poo all in my insides.
So, perhaps, my uncle he was right.
We're all poo, deep inside. And so let's all have pride.