Lyrics

I was beginning to get edgy having not written a jingle in 3 weeks. I'm rusty.


Last night Mr Tony was announcing billboards
Driving around Queenstown saw one that made him roar
Twas for an odd doctor with a license to bleed
Your bloated lipid membranes, and you won’t feel a thing
Because

From your aerated gut, the fat pours pours pours
From the sliced fat cells, like a trojan horse
Drink some chocolate syrup, hell, drink a whole quart
The ventilated cells have been scored scored scored
From a laser-like source

Your fat sludgy belly is now pocked like swiss cheese
40 years of french fries flooding your bloodstream
The laser-like thingamajig now warms up your skin
And then it starts making new collagen
Somehow

Cheap orange pants won’t be such an eyesore
For a deflated can, call the fat removal corps
Atop the tattoo shop, next to the adult bookstore
We apologize for the viscosity of the floor