The complete (as far as I know) lyrics to the sparta farter

Spurred on by the impossibly long who’s farting thread,I saw the man from sparta limerick.But that’s only the start.Somewhere in my lifetime I ran across a copy of the complete lyrics,at least as far as I’d known them.

Fortunately,I was discussing the fart thread with a former coworker who had managed to save a copy.This was the guy who was forever circulating those tired jokes around the office in the forms of memos,so I’d imagine he has more gems stored somewhere.What a hobby.

BTW mods,I have no idea where,or if,this thing should be posted here,since it doesn’t seem to need discussion,but here’s the rest of the Sparta story:

There once was a young man from Sparta.
A really magnificent farter.
Just by eating a bean
He’d fart “God Save the Queen,”
And Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata.

He could vary, with proper persuasion,
His fart to suit any occasion.
He could fart like a flute,
Like a lark, like a lute,
This very melliflous Caucasian.
This sparkling young farter from Sparta,
His fart for no money would barter.
He could roar from his rear
Any scene from Shakespeare,
Or Gilbert and Sullivan’s Mikado.

He could play the classics from afar,
As he showed me one day in a bar.
While sipping some suds
he played thrugh his duds
Chopin’s Etude #12 in C-minor.

He’d fart a gavotte for a starter,
And fizzle a fine serenata.
He could play on his anus
The Coriolanus:
Oof, boom,er-tum,tootle, yum tah-dah!

He was great in the Christmas Cantata,
He could double-stop fart the Toccata,
He’d boom from his ass
Bach’s B-Minor Mass,
And in counterpoint, La Traviata.

Spurred on by a very high wager
With an envious German named Bager,
He’d proceeded to fart
The complete oboe part
Of a Haydn Octet in B-major.

His reportoire ranged from the classics to jazz,
He achieved new effects with bubbles of gas.
With a good dose of salts
He could whistle a waltz
Or swing it in razzamatazz.

His basso profundo with timbre so rare
He rendered quite often, with power to spare.
But his great work of art,
His fortissimo fart,
He saved for the Marche Militaire.

That’s only half of it,the whole thing is too long-to be continued if possible

Nice rant. I give it nearly a half-star.

It’s not a rant–it’s Art.

It’s in the wrong forum–could some kind mod move it to Cafe Society?

Seeing as how a few of you liked the start here’s the ending.

Disclaimer-I did not write this,nor have any idea of it’s author,but it’s at least 40 yrs.old:

One day he was dared to perform
The William Tell Overture Storm,
But naught could dishearten
Our spirited Spartan,
For his fart was in wonderful form.
It went off in capital style,
And he farted it through with a smile,
Then, feeling quite jolly,
He tried the finale,
Blowing double-stopped farts all the while.

The selection was tough, I admit,
Tho it did not dismay him one bit,
But with his ass thrown aloft
He suddenly coughed…
And collapsed in a shower of shit.

His bunghole was blown back to Sparta,
Where they buried the rest of our farter,
With a gravestone of turds
Inscribed with the words:
"To the Fine Art of Farting, A Martyr.

As a bonus here’s one from memory ca.1960:

If a pig drinks a quart of buttermilk before he starts
And runs a mile before he farts
And the faster he runs,
The farther he gets,
How far will he run before he shits?

With age I find myself pausing sometimes,trying to remember my telephone number,but these useless bits of fluff pop into my mind instantaneously.There must be something in that a shrink could make a syndrome from. :slight_smile:

I’m glad I beat the stampede.

Yeah, you definitely don’t want to be behind a stampede of farters.