I know it's getting late,
And I know we had a date, Lucia,
I hate to make you wait,
'Cause it would be so great to see ya.
And tears fall from my eyes, and I must apologise, Lucia,
I'll have to stay at home so I called you on the phone,
'Cause I'm stuck here on the throne, with diarrhea.
I thought that it was only gas,
So I went and let one pass,
Then I stood there in a trance,
As I filled my brand new pants.
My mother brought me soup,
But it only made me poop, Lucia,
I never should have ate,
But it sounded like a great idea...
You know it really hurts, when you got the hurshy squirts, Lucia,
There's no toilet paper to be seen,
So I used People magazine,
And it makes me want to scream 'diarrhea'.
*farting noises to a tune*
I love you dear with all my heart,
But I can't go on with liquid farts,
I wouldn't have to break our date, if only I could constipate.
I know you got the hots,
But I really got the trots, Lucia,
There's no need to scream and shout,
'Cause tomorrow we'll go out, I guarantee ya,
I know you need your man,
So I came up with a plan Lucia,
I'll take a cork and superglue,
And pound it in there with my shoe,
And then I'll be all through, with diarrhea!