I am a true fartologist,
I let them out all day
The way I let those farts rip
My butt cheeks they do flay
The methane I’m releasing
Could warm the planet wide
And if you’ve got a nose that works
There’s nowhere I can hide
So if you smell a perfume;
Methane wasting through the air
There’s no need to look around
Just ‘cos you know I’m there.

About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri, quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.
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