[Intro] [Bouncy, rhythmic acoustic guitar begins] [Sound of a throat clearing nervously] (It was a prestigious occasion, mate.) (The pinnacle of the social calendar.) And there I was, a man of letters. A man of white linen. A man about to be undone by a cheap sausage roll. [Verse One] I stood beneath the chandeliers, a vision in bleached flax The cameras zoomed in on my face, I tried to just relax My wife was like a marble statue, glowing in the light The choir was a sea of pearls, a symphony of white I opened up my mouth to speak of grand and noble things While deep within my colon, a darker spirit sings The peristalsis started with a low and rhythmic thrum A biological betrayal centered in my bum I thought I’d vent a tiny bit, a subtle, silent puff To ease the mounting pressure of the hot and heavy stuff But physics is a cruel mistress when your shorts are tailored tight And what I thought was gaseous was a solid-state delight [Chorus] [Beat Drop] [Heavy, percussive acoustic rhythm] It was a hyper-viscous blooming on a canvas of pure snow A televised disaster that the nation had to know The texture was an insult, and the gravity was grim I’m standing in the spotlight on a very shaky limb (The viscosity is haunting!) (The saturation is complete!) A tectonic shift of effluence beneath a linen sheet [Verse Two] The feeling was remarkable, a warm and heavy weight Like pouring thick emulsion through a tiny garden gate It migrated with purpose, seeking every porous pore I felt the stickiness expand and then I felt some more The choir’s soprano hit a note and then she went quite pale She smelled the sudden presence of a biological fail My wife, she turned her head a fraction, just a subtle twitch She saw the beige archipelago, the staining of the rich It wasn't just a smudge, you see, it was a total flood A mixture of my dignity and processed, greasy mud The four K lenses caught the bloom, the capillary crawl Across the pristine fabric like a shadow on a wall [Chorus] It was a hyper-viscous blooming on a canvas of pure snow A televised disaster that the nation had to know The texture was an insult, and the gravity was grim I’m standing in the spotlight on a very shaky limb (He’s leaking like a radiator!) (The structural integrity is gone!) A catastrophic failure that’ll live forever on [Bridge] [Guitar slows to a tense, muted picking] [Whispered delivery] I could feel it cooling. That was the worst part. The atmospheric change against my inner thighs. The way it adhered to the white cargo pockets. A biological glue, binding me to my shame. The Archbishop looked at me. He didn't see a man. He saw a walking, talking, televised human hazard. (So sticky. So televised. So very, very white.) [Verse Three] I tried to shift my weight to hide the center of the mess But that just served to lubricate the source of my distress A squelch echoed through the hall, a wet and heavy sound That bounced off every golden shield and every head that’s crowned The Twitter feeds were screaming, the hashtags were unkind They were analyzing every inch of what I’d left behind Sixty Nine Million viewers saw the moment of the breach While I was still attempting to deliver my grand speech I waddled from the lectern with a heavy, swinging stride With nowhere left to run and certainly nowhere to hide One Thousand years of breeding and a university degree Reduced to "That Bloke Who Sharted On National T V" [Outro] [Acoustic guitar fades into a repetitive, mournful chord] White shorts. A choice was made. And gravity did the rest. (The stain is permanent, mate.) (Even the bleach is giving up.) I’m going to go live in a hole now. A brown hole. To match my trousers. [Final sharp acoustic strum] [End]
