This is directed towards those numerous nasty jerks who evidently can’t be bothered with being sanitary in public; i.e, those who refuse to flush the commode when finished.
*Ere you left the stall a moment past
Did you think to flush?
In the name of your deity,
Did you press that little lever,
Just to flush away?
Refrain:
O how flushing makes us happy!
Flusing will change the smell to fresh;
So when it stinks thick and funky,
Don’t forget to flush.*
Feel free to post your own versions of the subsequent verses. And I won’t mind at all if you improve the verse I just posted.
Apologies to Diana Ross
*
Flush it in the morning
Then just walk away
It won’t stink tomorrow
But it stank yesterday
Hey! Wasn’t it me who said that
Nothing brown’s gonna last forever?
And wasn’t it me who said that
I can flush with the touch of a feather?
It must have been hard to smell me
'Cause I flushed all I had to flush
I can understand you’re in a hurry
Everbody’s in such a rush.
Well, I can say goodbye in the cold morning stench
But I can’t watch shit glow in the warmth of the trench
If I’ve got to breathe deep
Don’t you know I need a nice clean toilet, you creep?
Till you go I need to sit here and think about
The last time that you’ll flush it in the morning
Then just close the stall
Leave me as you found me, reading from the wall…
*
Long, long time ago
Somebody came in here
'Cause they needed to pinch off a loaf.
And after they pulled up their pants
They didn’t flush and took a chance
That everyone would find out they’re an oaf…
I came in here not long after
And I can hear his mocking laughter
God, the stench is awful
It oughta be unlawful
I can’t remember if I cried
As I gagged and staggered back outside
I couldn’t go back if I tried, because… my nose… hairs fried
So die! Die, mister no-flushing guy
It’s disgusting when you’re thrusting logs out of your brown eye
The least that you can do is flush them goodbye
'Cause nobody wants to see your cowpie…
No one wants to see your cowpie…
matt_mcl and masonite have me crying with laughter. My sides ache. All the songs have been good so far, but I know and love that hymn tune they have been using, and knowing the music really well makes a parody funnier. I’m going to go away for a while and pull out my hymnal and see what I can come up with. Probably won’t be as good as what I’ve already seen though!
*I sing a song of the folks who flush,
quietly and sight unseen,
who took the care we all should take
to keep the restrooms clean.
And one was a doctor, and one was a drone,
and one was a secretary on the throne;
they were all of them flushers, true to the bone,
and I mean to be one too.
They loved their restrooms clean and fresh,
and cleanliness made them strong;
they always flushed for the next guy’s sake
the whole of their good lives long.
And one was a soldier, and one was a priest,
and one was slain by a fierce wild beast;
and there’s not any reason, no, not the least,
why I shouldn’t be one too.
They lived not only in ages past;
there are hundreds of thousands still.
The world is bright with the ones who flush
every toilet that they fill.
You can meet them in school, or in lanes or at sea,
In church, or in trains or in shops or at tea,
for the ones who flush are just folk like me,
and I mean to be one too.*
You’ve got to flush!
You’ve got the po-wer!
Yeah!
After all is said and done,
Don’t just leave, don’t just run.
It’s disgusting!
You’ve got to poop, I know it’s rough,
But when it’s done, you should really flush!
It’s the unwritten rule!
Kudos to one and all. Rico’s version is extremely funny! One little thing I noticed I left off: I used as my model the hymn, Ere You Left Your Room This Morning. My apologies for not mentioning that.
*Flush! For the Wretch, who splatter’s in the Bowl
The Turds beneath him from his Labour’d Hole,
Drives Out the Air with them from the Loo, and leaves
A Sullied Toilet for the next Poor Soul.
After the Phantom Shitter his poo applied,
Methought a Voice within the Restroom cried,
“Why is the Porcelain befouled within,
Shall O’er this filthy bog I myself bestride?”
And we, that now must tarry in the Room
They left, with Unflushed Messes in full bloom
Ourselves must on the same Commode still Warm
Descend–ourselves to leave a Mess–for whom?*
