You shouldn't judge a man by the hair on his bu*t. Maybe it's like needles Or possibly like bark Does it need to be mowed Like the lawn at the park? Maybe it's too soft Or possibly too coarse. You stuck your hands down his pants You though he was a horse. Maybe it's light blonde But probably it's black. It streached from his belt And covers up his back. I saw he had it braided. It made his pants real snug. It covers up his bu*t cheeks like a rug. Maybe it's like a forest All covered up with trees Maybe when he farts His bu*t hairs blow in the breeze. Maybe you were frightened because it was so scary Or maybe you found out it was filled with dingle berries.