- Influence
- 21,658.00
Written for @SwifttailTheFox
To the tune of "Moby Duck" by the Longest Johns
Oh me mother she once said to me,
ye better go and brush your teef
They'll rot right out of your mouth you see
And cause you endless grief
Heed not my caution all young thoughtless todds,
And you too soon shall weep
When the dentist comes a pokin
To find your rotten teefs
He'll poke and prod and scrape and scrub
On the toof beyond repair
You'll scream and wail and writhe and cry
And groan upon his chair
He'll shake his head and look at you
With face of grave despair
"You didn't heed your mother,
And now you'll lose 'em all I swear!"
One by one he'll pull them out,
The bill it towers high
Your bleedin' gums he'll fill with gold
Till your bank account runs dry
You'll rue the day that you were born
And wish that you could die
All because you didn't listen
To your mother's desperate cry
Chorus:
Scrub scrub, brush brush
Brush your stinkin' teef
You'll do yourself a favor
and your mates will find relief
When your morning breath don't bowl 'em over
With bits of last night's quiche
And your date won't flee or dryly heave
When you kiss upon'r cheek
To the tune of "Moby Duck" by the Longest Johns
Oh me mother she once said to me,
ye better go and brush your teef
They'll rot right out of your mouth you see
And cause you endless grief
Heed not my caution all young thoughtless todds,
And you too soon shall weep
When the dentist comes a pokin
To find your rotten teefs
He'll poke and prod and scrape and scrub
On the toof beyond repair
You'll scream and wail and writhe and cry
And groan upon his chair
He'll shake his head and look at you
With face of grave despair
"You didn't heed your mother,
And now you'll lose 'em all I swear!"
One by one he'll pull them out,
The bill it towers high
Your bleedin' gums he'll fill with gold
Till your bank account runs dry
You'll rue the day that you were born
And wish that you could die
All because you didn't listen
To your mother's desperate cry
Chorus:
Scrub scrub, brush brush
Brush your stinkin' teef
You'll do yourself a favor
and your mates will find relief
When your morning breath don't bowl 'em over
With bits of last night's quiche
And your date won't flee or dryly heave
When you kiss upon'r cheek