Routine lyrics
by Bo Burnham
The flies do their daily exercise routine,
buzzing and twisting around the mounds of sh*t
in my front lawn.
How happy they must be darting through the stench,
taking deep breaths of airborne fecal particles
rather than that stale chemical fertilizer.
The sh*t's where it's at. The flies know that.
When the dancing is over, they collapse onto the poo
and stuff their faces with it.