Oi, careful! This door's not for wrenching wide,
its hinge already breaking, flailing loose.
You've too much stuff. Last time, I almost died!
Well, this is just the usual abuse.
You can't stop messing, can you? Boxers, shirts
and, worst of all, that kinky underwear;
oh, I could catalogue a thousand hurts
my drum has suffered through your lack of care.
You know, some day I might just shout, "ENOUGH!"
and spin your lad-rags with a deafening roar
till all that's left are tiny bits of fluff...
and then I'll stomp across the kitchen floor!
You'll fall in awe. And I'll begin my reign
as Great Queen Bosch. Now kiss my filter drain!
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