[performed by Footprints in the Custard]
Before I say I love you there's something I must know,
What is that rancid stench that wafts from down below
Like plastic on the griddle and eggs left far too long,
My darling I must say your c*nt smells f**ing wrong
Put it back lock it away,
It's like a petrol station on a rainy day
The stench is so vile it just isn't fair,
It's like a scene from my s**ual nightmares
Your Blue Waffle I shed a tear,
As I grit my teeth and swallow my fear,
Petrol hanger a f**ing disgrace,
As its brought down low and pressed into my face
Your Blue Waffle I shed a tear,
As I grit my teeth and swallow my fear,
Petrol hanger a f**ing disgrace,
As its brought down low and pressed into my face
Decaying before my eyes like spam left in the sun,
The thought of ploughing you is no longer so much fun
As I start to turn away sun rising in the east,
I see your boils of pus are festooned with yeast
What is that thing what does it do,
Why does it spurt with all hues of blue,
The stench is so vile it just isn't fair,
It's like a scene from my s**ual nightmares