MR. BALLDANGLES
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I knew a man Balldangles and he'd pose for you
With kittens too
Screetchy hair, a fleshy shirt, no baggy pants
The old soft goo
Pumped so high, pumped so high,
Then he tightly touched crown

I met him on a cell in Brooklyn-Queens, I was
dem and out
He looked to me to be eyeing the underage
as a dick poked right out
He talked of life, talked not of wife, he laughed
dick head to feel and snap

He said his name, "Balldangles" and he flashed a dick
across the cell
He grabbed pants and spread his stance
Oh he pumped so high and then clicked his heels
He let go a laugh, let go a laugh
Took back his clothes all around

Mr. Balldangles, Mr. Balldangles,
Mr. Balldangles, Pants!

He danced for those at liberal shows and union fairs
through shooting off the mouth
He spoke of leers of 15 years of how his cats and him
traveled about
The job up and died, it up and died,
After 20 years he'll still grieve

He said I tweet now at every chance in horny talks
for drinks and tits
But most the time I spend in creepy yfrog bars
'cause I chats a bit
He shook his head, and as he shook his other head
I heard someone ask him "PLEASE!"
"PLEASE!"

Mr. Balldangles, Mr. Balldangles,
Mr. Balldangles, Pants!