I was there at the cattle fair   Where lump fairies swear at glories far beyond the fabric that she wears   He said 'do you want a chair?'   I'd join him anywhere!      A hole in ground in this theater I found   J.C.'s infernal horde   They caper, they banter, forming human pyramids   All to please their infernal lord      Woah! His name is Jacques Cousteau   A pussy and I know you know   I know you know and there he goes   He goes and grows, oh gosh he knows   Aboard the Calypso      The foam beside and a burly sea to ride   All spell goodness for the master of the whirling pimple tide   He tried and pried until the rusty hinges sighed   Then he stepped inside   He found her there swimming in her seaweed hair   Looking vaguely like a lover who had hung herself with underwear   Phosphorescent green and the sex act made obscene   In Jacques' galleon of hatred this wrinkled Frenchman is a   living god!!!      Cousteau you know where the dying dolphins go   And the wasteland ever growing never slowing till it's far below   Put it on your TV show   And let the humans know!!!