The Candy Asses' Ball

(Tune: The Wabash Cannonball)

Oh.......

Listen to the rumble and the whistle of hot air
As you stare into the dryer, and count your underwear
And when you've done it several times, count the panels on the wall
Then straighten up the throwrugs, at the Candy Asses' Ball
 

Ch:
They're duller than a toilet bowl, they haven't got a hope
They're flatter than a two by four, they're thick as Granma'ssoap
They like to watch the grass grow, it makes their skin to crawl
At the dullards own convention,
The Candy Asses' Ball!

They gather at the airport, as fired up as hell
And off they go to Baggage Claim, to watch that carousel
They've got a little bet on, and man,  the action's hot
As to how the baggage goes around,  is it clockwise? Is it not?
 

Ch:

Then it's off to form a line outside, just past  the airport gate
And they'll spend several hours making sure their line is straight
They have a little game they play, while straightening it out
Comparing numbers seen, of cabs: with checkers, and without.
 

Ch:

These are the men in houndstooth, they haven't got a life
Each one has 2.7 kids, and less than half a wife
Their precious lawns are neat and trim, no crabgrass do they keep,
And they work to keep their toes up straight, when they lie down to sleep!
 

Ch:

They're really great at parties, discussing cubes of ice
They know the best deals all around, they've double checked it twice!
They know how many cowhides the NFL will need
And just for fun, take sesame buns, and tally up the seeds!
 

Ch:

They learned it in their chioildhood, when Dad would raise a scene
Calling all the kids to come and see that  test grid on the screen
They love to watch old boards dry out, it makes their eyes shine bright,
Alphabetizing M and Ms, and lining them up right!
 

Ch:

Oh ladies if you're single, take warning  here from me
And never let a man like that invite you for some tea.
For into morbid coma, and far from life you'll fall
If you marry up with a dullard from the Candy Asses' Ball!
 
 

Ch:
They're duller than a toilet bowl, they haven't got a hope
They're flatter than a two by four, they're thick as Granma'ssoap
They like to watch the grass grow, it makes their skin to crawl
At the dullards own convention,
The Candy Asses' Ball!