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Your nose is long and crooked, your hips are big and wide.
Your voice makes me nauseous, I want to run and hide.
Your hair is quickly graying, your skin is sickly pale.
Your body is full of problems, and your breath is awfully stale.
Yet you think your'e perfect, a rose among the thorns.
What you hide beneath your halo, is a set of horny horns.
All who meet you hate you, they dont say it to your face.
To your perfect family you are such a big disgrace.
If I had to kiss you, I think I'd surely die.
I'd wash my mouth with turpentine and bathe myself in lye. If I'm forced to sleep with you, and hold your festered breast.
I'd drink a bowl of buzzard puke, and die a painful death.
John DeBona
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