Shitespace
Why I Like My Sarong
Kate Rancid
Oh, sing a sweet, sweet song
About my sarong!
It really is quite nice,
Not like boiled rice.
It comes from another country
And it isn't crunchy
Either.

I like the way it wraps
Around all my many flaps.
I like the way it hangs
From my many fangs.
I like the way it dangles
Like a million Bangles
Singing Walk Like An Egyptian
In the kitchen.

I like the way it ties
Around my ample thighs
And never quite looks right
Unless there is no light.
I like it in the morning
When I'm awake and yawning.
On my bannister it sits
Waiting to cover up my tits
So when I leave my flat
To go to the bathroom and that,
I will feel all right
And not give Ellis a fright.

Oh, how I love my sarong!
Some might say that this is wrong
To love a piece of material,
To find it so ethereal.
I like it more than cereal,
And I like that a lot
And I've liked it for so long,
But not as much
As my sarong.


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