Cognitive Void - Kettle of Farts (Flatulence Overload)

[Intro] Yo! Drop the beat! Fifty years on this planet, what do I get? A gold watch? A pension? Nah, just a highly reactive digestive tract! Check it out! [Verse 1] Step aside, youth, there’s a new boss in town With a bad lower back and a permanent frown Used to headbang all night till my neck was sore Now I slam a prune juice and I head for the door Fifty-one years of a premium life Now my own internal organs are causing me strife Eating beans is a gamble, broccoli’s a threat I haven’t even started on the cabbage roll yet! The doctor told me, "Hey, it’s just evolution" I told him, "No, doc, it’s a acoustic pollution!" [Chorus] KETTLE OF FARTS!(Flatulence Overload!) Turn up the heat till the thermostat explodes! KETTLE OF FARTS!(Fifty years deep!) Waking up the neighbors when I'm fast asleep! Can't stop the rhythm, can't stop the gas Fifty-plus years of a thrashing brass bass! [Verse 2] Walk into the grocery store, looking for a snack Hit the dairy aisle and I’m under attack A little bit of cheddar, a scoop of ice cream Suddenly my belly is a pressure-steam machine! Is it a tremor? Is it a quake? Look at the window, see the frame shake! No more leather jackets, I need elastic bands To survive the eruption taking over these lands! You think you’re hardcore with your mosh pit crew? Try digesting onions at age fifty-two! [Chorus] KETTLE OF FARTS!(Flatulence Overload!) Turn up the heat till the thermostat explodes! KETTLE OF FARTS!(Fifty years deep!) Waking up the neighbors when I'm fast asleep! Can't stop the rhythm, can't stop the gas Fifty-plus years of a thrashing brass bass! Mosh! Mosh! Mosh! What’s that smell? Mosh! Mosh! Mosh! Is it heaven or hell? I used to breathe fire, now I'm venting out steam Living the biological middle-age dream Hide the matches! Evacuate the floor! The kettle is boiling and it’s time for war! ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR! [Verse 3] Now my joints are creaking but the bass line is louder Powered entirely by fiber-supplement powder Fifty-five, fifty-six, counting up the score But my lower intestine is begging for more We brought the noise in the eighties, kept it loud and proud Now I’m just trying not to clear out the crowd! [Outro] Kettle’s whistling! It’s boiling over! (Boom!) Flatulence Overload!