This one I call In My Time Of Shopping Needs... I cant see the lean meats of this isle Im leaving, I try to get fruit juice and your lunch meats, This time they left nothing else in stock, It looks like I need French fries, Chorus And the checkout is miles and miles away, With Anna giving me a pain, And I should contemplate the list change and walk away, And I pick out cleaner for the drain and some cooking spray, Close to spending it all Im sifting through the pages of coupons That might help me get dental floss, Lots of bread and chives, maybe lottery pick 4 and more butter rolls.. Chorus At times my farts fading slowly, but it never stains, Would someone want to take over please In my time of shopping needs
this beats the "which katatonia member is the best as a sofa" thread i made with my alt on katatonia forum
If you sing these lyrics to the song, you'll never think of the song the same again... or hold a straight face. Believe me, I've tried.
"Broil" She sold me pie, She sold me fries, always eating in a bliss, I sold her a cow, That always shit stained, Always a shit for nothing, I when I shit out here, When I crap it from my behind, You'll find that the tears are streaming by, You'll find that the tears are streaming by, And I can see poo, Running through the fields tomorrow, Yes, I feel poo, Running through the fields tomorrow, When you get your ass out of here, When you wash your behind, Youll find the gas I just passed on by, When you get your ass out of here, When you wash your behind, You'll find the gas I just passed on by, And I can shit on you, Running through the fields like Manilow, Yes, I can shit on you, Crapping on the fields like Manilow...
Poo. Interesting. Shows that TOP_OPTH_FAN is unbeatable. I have another suggestion about this kind of remake, but nothing to publish on this forum. Just try to translate (if you are not a native English speaker) any lyrics into your native language. It's kinda.. you know.. fun.
I was upon the pine, carrying a burping inside, I tried to belch a line, But out a croaking I only sighed, There's a motion of bowels in you, The bowels in me.. Had a movement up to my eyes, The mead no longer knew to spray, Ridden up my roast, Passing gas submitted by beer, And the wait for flatulation to fan... Waiting to bail Belching again If my breath takes me down Round my missed takes to let them through, Whimpered in your ear, You've belched more than we've received, And the motion to burp it is you...