The nausea is really annoying, but perversely inspiring.
Now let me tell a story 'bout a man named Don
He puked out his breakfast in his next-door neighbor's john
Lunch went straight into the coffee shop commode
And on the dinner table are the chunks he blowed.
(blew, that is. I do so hate grammar.)
Late one night Don had a midnight snack
'Tweren't more than half a minute 'fore it came right back
Don opened up the window and looked out at the lawn
And fertilized the grass with a technicolor yawn.
(Vomit, that is. Toilet tea.)
Now one of Don's friends he says "Gosh, that's odd.
Near every night he's worshipping the porcelain god.
I don't much biology but what I do is such
That I don't know how anyone can ralph that much."