It's flamingo night,
love's in the air,
Blame my bowels,
a storm moves there,
Each twirl and spin,
gas pressure grows,
Oh no, it's the flatulence, let me go,
Keep splat test sites,
don't let it blow,
I won't move and I'll be doomed,
So crop dust my love with asperg fume, the tempo rises,
My control's slanted to little squeakers, kiss my hips,
My love looks puzzled, I just spin,
Blaming the brass bands for that sour wing,
Suddenly a rumble from down below,
My face turns pale,
it's time to go,
I spin and twirl towards the loop,
Desperate to not drop a doogie on my shoe,
But alas, my luck has run out,
a wet throat that sounds a little chow,
My pants now soiled with love's sweet stank,
this flamingo night,
Oh no,
it's the flatulence,
let me go,
Cheeks clenched tight, don't let it go,
oh no, let it go,
oh oh oh One wrong move and I'll be doomed,
to crop dust my love,
Troll the dance floor,
clears the crowd in shock,
As I waddle away with muddy socks Lesson learned,
on this fateful eve Never trust a fart when your cheeks deceive,
You're a little girl,
you're a little girl,
you're a little girl,
you're a little girl,
One wrong move and I'll be doomed,
to crop dust my love Troll the dance floor,
clears the crowd in shock,
Never trust a fart when your cheeks deceive,
As I waddle away with muddy socks