Potty

Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear.
And so, he had some hair down there.

And when he sat upon the loo,
the seat made his poor ass turn blue.

The shit we use to keep it clean,
the lovely scent of the latrine,
it was not meant for beasts like him.
No, we concocted it for Jim,

and Pam, and Stew,
and even you.

But now, we know not what to do,

for Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear,
was a bear who’s now not there.
The chemicals, they killed him dead.
And now, it all falls on our heads.

All because nature did call,
and Fuzzy could not scale the wall;
even a bear wants for privacy.
The privy’s for more than you and me.